The Secrets of My Heart
by hasapi
Summary: [COMPLETE] Hermione's seventh year should have been the best one yet. But then all is thrown into chaos, making her question who her enemies are, who her friends are, and most of all, who she really is. Hr&H, Hr&D. [Sequel: Of My Heart's Desires]
1. Dreams of My Past

**A/N: This is my second Harry Potter fic… I got the idea from Lavinee Rocher, an author here on ff.net who came up with the idea but didn't have time to write it. So I'm writing it… And I hope you all like it, 'cause I do. **

**Pairing: Hermione/Harry, Hermione/Draco**

**Rating: PG-13 (may change in future chapters)**

**Disclaimer: Hmm….let's see here. I don't own the characters. I don't own the plot (see A/N). I don't own this computer. **

I'm going to stop now. I'm getting depressed.

**********

_Prologue_

Hermione was running down the corridor, trying to escape it. Him.  There was no reason to try... he was going to get her in the end, why not just give up now? Save her strength to fight another day. _No! her mind screamed. If she didn't escape now, she never would._

Her legs ran faster, and still the unseen person gained on her, and she was thrown to the ground. She screamed--

And was jerked awake by her husband. "Hermione!" he whispered urgently. When he saw she was awake, he breathed a sigh of relief, running a thumb across her cheek, collecting the tears that had come with the dream. He frowned. "It was that dream again wasn't it?"

She nodded, looking away. 

He drew in a shuddering breath. "I am so sorry... it's my fault. All my fault..."

Her head snapped back to him and she cupped his face urgently. "No, it was not your fault! It was never your fault. There was nothing you could have done."

He looked at her, knowing she truly believed that. He had never believed it though. He blamed himself for the dreams that kept her awake at night, knowing if he had just been stronger, she wouldn't have to live in the fear that always came in the dreams' wake. 

If only...

**********

_Chapter 1_

Hermione walked briskly down the corridor, books weighing her down.

Normally, this would be a pleasant sight to behold, and one that none would be surprised at.

But her brisk walk had nothing to do with happiness... and everything to do with hoping to finish her task quickly enough so as not to be whipped. Again. She flinched as the coarse cloth of her robe rubbed against her scarred back. Flint had whipped her the most, though she'd also caught him leering at her. He didn't seem to care that she had, and she suspected that he wanted her to.

She reached the Slytherin's common room and walked in, setting the books on the table as quietly as possible.

"Granger!" a voice barked. She flinched, waiting for the blow she knew should be coming. But it never came. And now that she thought about it, she realized that this particular person had never raised a hand against her. She pushed the thought aside as she heard him continue speaking. "The Master wants to see you..."

Hermione flinched again. There was only one reason _she would be summoned by Voldemort. It was, most likely, time to die. _

A hand seized her around the upper arm, and she scurried along after him, fingering the emerald pendant around her neck. Her parents had given it to her for her 16th birthday, saying they thought it was time she received it. She assumed it was a family heirloom, though, when she asked about it, they had glanced at each other quickly and said they would explain it to her when the time was right.

She shook her head. The time would never be right now. They were, in all likelihood, dead. She hadn't seen them since September 1st, at the station. They had been so proud of her...she was going to be a fully-fledged witch when she returned. They had no doubt about that. _She had had no doubt about it. But then it had happened. What everyone had feared since Voldemort's return in her fourth year. Hogwarts had been attacked._

The headmaster had, fortunately, planned for something like this, and since they had been attacked during classes, the classes were their group. The seventh year Gryffindors had been in double potions with the Slytherins. None of them had escaped. And because of some odd quirk of fate – or perhaps a whim of Voldemort's – Harry was still alive. She had no idea what had happened to Dumbledore, only that he had been called away that morning for something at the Ministry. That should have been a warning in itself. 

Seventh year Gryffindors and Slytherins, third year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, fifth year Ravenclaws and Gryffindors. None of them had made it out. Professors Sprout, Trelawney, Snape, and Madame Pomfrey were the only adults left. Surprisingly, they had not been killed. There had been very few casualties. But there had been some students killed, those who hadn't thought to control their tempers… Hermione choked back a sob as she thought of Ron, and pushed it from her mind. 

The remaining Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs were no better than slaves. The Slytherins were their masters, and Voldemort mastered over all. Hermione glanced around, taking note of her surroundings. They were heading deeper into the dungeons. In all truth, she had suspected that Voldemort would have his headquarters where Dumbledore's had been. But apparently she was mistaken. And in all truth, it made complete sense. 

She was pushed roughly onto the ground in front of her, and when she looked up, she realized they had arrived. Her captor took his place beside Lucius Malfoy, who was standing at Voldemort's right side, looking at Hermione as though she were a bug he would like to squash. All he was waiting for was the permission from his master. A man she recognized as Peter Pettigrew stood on Voldemort's left, and, if it were possible, he looked even more pathetic than he had four years earlier. Lord Voldemort was sitting on what could only be described as a throne, looking down on her with utter contempt and disgust. 

"This is the most powerful witch in all of Hogwarts?" he sneered. "A lowly Mudblood..." 

She sat back and glared at him, knowing that even if death were coming, she would face it head on. She watched as his eyes flickered down to the pendant -- which had come out of her robes when she fell -- and his already pale face paled even more. Hermione almost fainted. Voldemort had paled. It made him seem almost ... human. 

"Where did you get that?" he asked, his voice a deathly whisper.

She raised a trembling hand and clutched the pendant. "My parents," she said, praying her voice was as calm and collected as she wished it to be.

If it were possible, his face became even more white, and he stood suddenly, jerking her to her feet with his hand clenched around her upper arm. She gasped from the pain before schooling her face into a mask of indifference. Voldemort lifted the pendant and stared at it for a few minutes before he dropped it and let go of her arm. She fell back down onto the floor.

He walked back up to his throne and sat down. "Everyone, out!" he barked. They all scurried to do his bidding -- except Pettigrew, who stayed by his master's side. "Pettigrew..." the Dark Lord's voice trailed off warningly, and Pettigrew quickly left the room. 

Voldemort stared down at her for a few more minutes before motioning for her to get up, which she did. She was completely confused. Voldemort was acting almost ... nice. _Impossible, she scoffed. __Voldemort, nice? She looked at him, and was surprised to find him studying her closely. _

Suddenly, he spoke.

"You have her face. I don't know why I never noticed it before..."

Now Hermione was more confused than ever. What in Heaven, Hell, or Earth was he talking about? 

"Excuse me?" She almost slapped herself for talking back to him. 

Voldemort looked -- dare she say it? -- amused. "Your mother. You have your mother's face."

Hermione furrowed her brows. "How do you know my mother?"

Voldemort sighed and leaned back against his chair. "I'm going to tell you a story..."

Hermione was surprised she didn't die from the shock of it all.

"You may sit down, if you like." He snapped his fingers, and a house elf came scurrying into the room. "A chair for the miss."

Hermione was still completely confused. She sat down on the chair the elf brought for her, smiling at the little creature as it bowed out of the room. She frowned, looking back at Voldemort, who seemed to be contemplating his next words. 

"I met your mother on one of my many travels, about nineteen years ago. I had already begun my reign as Lord Voldemort, of course, and I was thirsting for power. Already the Wizarding world feared my name, and I knew it would not be long before the Muggle realm did so as well. Your mother, however..." he shook his head. "She did not fear me at all. She worked at the Ministry, and I had kidnapped her for questioning. She--"

"Wait," Hermione interrupted, surprising herself with her daring. "My mum's not a witch. How could she be working at the Ministry?"

Voldemort laughed softly, surprising her not nearly as much as his answer. "Oh, no, my dear," he said softly. Hermione was ready to faint. He'd just called her a dear. "Your mother was a witch. And your name is not Hermione Ann Granger..."

Hermione's breath hitched. She knew what he was going to say. There was only one thing _possible that he could say. But she still didn't accept it._

"Your name is Hermione Rhianna Thomasine Riddle," he paused, "or Lady Voldemort, if you prefer."

Hermione gasped as her eyes rolled back into her head, and she slumped in her chair in a dead faint.


	2. Knowledge of My Father's

**A/N: To those of you who really want to know who Hermione's husband is… well, let's just say that I'm going to keep that info to myself as long as possible. I like to keep you guessing – it keeps you reading!**

**If anyone wants to be informed when the next chapter is up, please leave your e-mail address and SAY THAT YOU WANT THE E-MAIL.**

**Rating: PG-13**

**Pairing: Hermione/Harry, Hermione/Draco**

**Disclaimer: None of this is mine. None of it! The plot belongs to Lavinee, and the characters belong to J.K. Rowling. What does that leave me with?**

See?

**********

_Chapter 2_

Lord Voldemort studied his daughter, who was slumped in her chair. In all truth, he was not surprised at her reaction. After all, her father had been trying to kill her best friend for the boy's entire life. He thought back to the prophesy which had changed his life...

_When the Daughter of the Dark_

_And the Son of the Light unite_

_The Dark Lord shall be no more._

It had been short. Oh, yes. Extremely short. But it had been a powerful prophesy, nonetheless. Trelawney's first, in fact. It had been obvious that the Daughter of the Dark was his daughter, Hermione. But the Son of the Light had been more difficult to identify ... until he had discovered the past of the Potters. And then he had gone after them with everything he had.

And it had nearly destroyed him. 

He knew it would have been easier to kill his daughter. There was no problem in getting to her. 

But even Voldemort had a heart. And when he looked at her for the first time, his heart had filled with love for the tiny little creature. And he had been hooked when she threw her little fingers around his thumb. 

When he had received the prophesy, he had gone straight to his daughter, prepared to _Avada__ Kedavra her. But he couldn't do it. He had broken down and cried, right there, with the knowledge that he had been prepared to kill his daughter. _

So he had gone after the Potters. 

Shaking himself from his thoughts, he stood, striding to the door. He jerked it open and barked for Pettigrew. The scrawny little man appeared almost immediately, and Voldemort spoke to him quietly. "Ready the rooms across the hall from mine, and find a dressmaker." He glanced back into the room before continuing. "And bring that nurse from the infirmary."

Pettigrew did not question his master's orders, but quickly hurried to do his bidding. 

***

Hermione blinked, then shut her eyes when she saw Voldemort speaking to Madame Pomfrey. The memories came rushing back, and she almost fainted again. She was Lord Voldemort's daughter. Her mother was a witch. She realized with a jolt that that meant she was a Pureblooded witch, and almost laughed at the irony of it all.

She peeked again, but was caught by Voldemort this time. He quickly strode over to her, despite Pomfrey's scolding. "Are you feeling better?" he asked. His voice was almost kind, but Hermione refused to accept that he could be capable of that emotion.

She scowled at him, no longer worried about whether she were going to die or not. "All I did was faint."

Madame Pomfrey bustled over and put a cloth against her forehead. Hermione sighed, wishing that this was all just one big, horrible dream. 

***

Hermione lay back against the soft couch and eyed Voldemort. He was sitting in his throne again, this time drinking, of all possible things, butterbeer. She was surprised she hadn't died from the shock. Then again, in the past few hours, she had learned more than she could have imagined, not only about him, but about her past as well. Speaking of which... "Why don't you finish explaining how you met my mother?"

Voldemort glanced up at his daughter, a faint smile appearing on his blood-less lips. "Ah, yes. Your mother... She worked at the ministry, and happened to be in one of the countries I was travelling in. I needed some information, so I kidnapped her. At first, I tried Veritaserum, but she was immune to it. I didn't want to, because at that time I felt pity for her, but I used the Cruciatus Curse." Hermione shuddered. Lucius Malfoy had used that on her a few times, when she hadn't done her chores quickly enough. "But she didn't budge. I didn't get a single thing out of her, other than, 'You bastard,' or some such thing." 

Hermione snorted. 

Voldemort looked amused. "Yes, I thought so as well. Eventually, I gave up. I was extremely glad when I realized that I hadn't done any lasting damage to her brain. Despite the fact that most seem to think I had been a heartless bastard at that point, I wasn't. At least, not then.

"I didn't know what to do with her. I knew that even if I Obliviated her, the Ministry would break through it. She'd been gone too long. I wouldn't have been surprised if they'd reported her dead."

Hermione interrupted him. "Why didn't you just kill her?"

Voldemort laughed, a low, almost cruel sound, and he answered her quietly. "I couldn't. I don't know why, and I don't think I ever will. There wasn't anything to do with her. I didn't want to turn her over to my Death Eaters, as I knew they would show her no mercy whatsoever. So I kept her. I had to guard her twenty-four hours a day, as she never stopped trying to escape." Seeing a question forming in his daughter's eyes, he quickly continued, "But I never raped her, if that's what you're asking. I had considered making her my mistress, but at that point I knew that she would never let me have her. I had long ago drawn a line for myself. I would never lower myself to the standards at which my own servants live. I have never, will never, rape anyone for my own pleasure. I only kill when I need to for my own survival, never just to see them die." Voldemort sighed, and Hermione was amazed to find the sound mournful.

"But," he continued, "Something happened. A few weeks after I had kidnapped her, I had a few Death Eaters at my private residence. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle." Seeing her raised eyebrow, he chuckled. "Yes, I can see what you mean. Crabbe and Goyle flanked Lucius Malfoy just as their sons now flank Draco. Well, as I was saying, they were visiting, and I left them unattended for a few minutes. Apparently, Lucius found your mother and attempted to rape her. I found them before he got too far, and blasted him with the Cruciatus Curse. I was so mad, that word doesn't even begin to describe it. After that, something changed. She stopped trying to escape as often, and she appeared at meals. I could feel her eyes on me, knew she was watching me. I guess she found something she liked, since after a month, I found her in my bed.

"After that, she became my mistress. I was so...happy those days. I couldn't remember a better time. She made me laugh, and introduced me to a passion so intense I was amazed every time I woke up that I was still alive." He looked at Hermione, his eyes wet with unshed tears.

Hermione, however, had no such inhibitions, and was crying quite openly. 

Voldemort sighed heavily. "After a few months she discovered she was pregnant. She didn't tell me at first, was afraid I would make her give up the child. She tried to escape. She didn't get very far, and I was extremely hurt that she had tried at all. I had believed that she was happy the way things were. After she spent a few more days crying in her room, I couldn't stand it anymore. I gave her the opportunity to leave. She told me she was pregnant. I was ... ecstatic." He looked at Hermione, his eyes searching her face. "I married her. There is no public record, of course." He laughed cruelly. "The great Lord Voldemort, married. I believe it would have sent some into shock. 

"When she had you, I knew the meaning of love at first sight. During that time, I'm afraid I let my Death Eaters run quite amok. I had to rein them in quite a bit. And then..." he sighed again, his voice becoming weary. "Trelawney had a prediction."

"Trelawney?" Hermione scoffed. "That old crackpot?"

Voldemort raised a brow. "Actually, so far as I know she has made two real predictions. One was to me ... and the other, as I understand it, to the great Harry Potter." Hermione just stared at him, waiting for him to continue. "Well then. I don't think I'll ever forget this...

"_When the Daughter of the Dark_

"_And the Son of the Light unite_

"_The Dark Lord shall be no more._

"As you can tell, the Daughter of the Dark was you, but the Son of the Light... Well, that took a little digging. Eventually I realized that it was James Potter's son."

Hermione had gone quite pale.

"I knew that to stop that from happening I had to kill one of you. And I knew you would be the easiest. There was no problem in getting to you." He looked at Hermione, his eyes sad beyond belief. "But I couldn't do it. I stood above your cradle, with my wand in my hand, ready to kill you... And I cracked. I couldn't do it. And I was ashamed of myself. I had been ready to kill you, my daughter. I broke down and cried. Cried for the first time in a long time.

"I knew I had to stop the prediction from happening. So I tracked down the Potters. It took a while, and I was exceedingly glad when it happened that Pettigrew was the Potters' secret keeper. So I went, and I killed the boy's parents. But unfortunately, there was some type of countercurse against the Avada that the Potters knew about." Seeing his daughter's disbelieving gaze, he continued.

"They had discovered it only that day. The Potters were more powerful than anyone knew. More powerful even, than I knew. I am ashamed to say that in underestimating them, I set the stage for my fall from power. Lily Potter had time to cast the countercurse upon her son, but I killed her before she could do the same for herself. I didn't realize until after that she had done so. The curse was reflected back to me, and I, for all intents and purposes, died.

"I don't know what happened to your mother after that."

Hermione wiped her eyes and asked a question that had been bugging her since almost the start of his explanation. "What about the pendant?"

Voldemort nodded and pulled something out of his pocket, looking at it. "When I married your mother, in addition to her wedding ring, I gave her that pendant that you are wearing. It was descended down my mother's side of the family, and only a descendant of Salazar Slytherin can wear it."

"Uh, wait a minute. Was my mother a descendant of him? 'Cause then you two would be related somehow, and that's kind of sick."

Voldemort laughed, and answered, "No, no. Your mother and I, during the marriage ceremony, cut ourselves here," he pointed to the palm of his right hand, "and our blood intermixed. So long as the wearer has some of Salazar's blood, he or she can wear the pendant."

Hermione nodded, trying to make sense of it all. 

"I'm assuming she gave the pendant to the Grangers to give to you when you were old enough."

"Yes, when I was sixteen."

Voldemort nodded, then stood, walking over to the couch where his daughter lay. He crouched down -- which Hermione found extremely strange -- in front of her, contemplating his next words. "You do know that you are going to have to be introduced to the world as my daughter, Hermione Rhianna Thomasine."

Hermione sighed. "Yes."

"And I'm afraid that you will have to marry someone of political value."

Hermione started. "What?"

"An arranged marriage." Voldemort sighed. "I do wish that you could marry of your own choosing, but I'm afraid that at this point in time, that would be disastrous."

Hermione took a deep breath. "Of course," she attempted a smile. After all, what else could she do? He was her father, he was Lord Voldemort, he could kill her -- though she doubted he would -- and all he asked was that she marry someone of his choosing? "May I have the opportunity of turning them down?"

Voldemort looked contemplatively down at her. "So long as there is a good reason behind it, yes."

Hermione nodded. She suddenly looked up at him, a question on her lips. "Who was my mother?"

Voldemort chuckled. "Rhianna Marie Dumbledore."

Hermione was surprised she didn't faint again.

***************

**A/N: Hello again! I'm having a lot of fun writing this story, and apparently you're having fun reading…**

**avri, ****Peter Wilson,**** lozzie,**** Envya: *laughs* Everyone seems to be asking that question. See my first A/N if you didn't earlier.**

**Leara**** Malfoy, ****Dragon-soul, ****mary: Thanks! I'll definitely keep writing, don't worry!**

**tommygurl: Thanks so much! I'll definitely pass on your praise to Lavinee. And as for the question about her husband… Well, I'm keeping that info to myself as long as possible.**


	3. My Future is Decided

**A/N:** Hello again! I apologize profusely for the extremely long wait. Ususally it doesn't take this long. I needed some inspiration…plus some free time. I actually wrote a few paragraphs of this in my notebook during class. I hate it when inspiration hits you like that…*sigh* Oh, well. Comes with being a writer I guess.

This chapter has more father/daughter talk. *laughs* You guys seem to like Voldie. I do too. In this fic at least, I see him a relatively okay guy, just that he believes in power and all that junk. And you get the most power on the Dark side. So that's where he is. Hope this chapter clears some stuff up.

**If anyone wants to me to e-mail them when the new chapters come up, TELL ME, AND LEAVE YOUR E-MAIL ADDRESS. **

**Rating:** PG-13

**Pairings:** Hermione/Harry, Hermione/Draco

Disclaimer: None of this is mine. None of it!! The plot belongs to Lavinee, and the characters belong to J.K. Rowling. What does that leave me with?

Well, actually, if you want to be nit-picky, it was my idea to kill Ron. But then again, you probably aren't too happy about that, are you? Hmm. Never mind then.

**********

_Chapter 3_

Hermione struggled to breathe. Finally she gasped out, "Did you say Dumbledore?"

Voldemort smiled, staring off into the distance unseeingly. "Yes. Your mother—my prisoner, lover, mistress, and eventually wife—was the great granddaughter of Albus Dumbledore. Rhianna Marie Dumbledore… Is it any surprise that you are as powerful as you are? The descendent of not only Salazar Slytherin, but Albus Dumbledore as well…"

Hermione closed her eyes, breathing slowly, in and out, in and out, in and out… She opened her eyes again, and was met by the strange sight of Voldemort crouched in front of her seat, his elbows on his knees, his hands steepled in front of him. Hermione was shocked to see the Dark Lord in such a … _domestic_ position. "I don't quite understand all of this," Hermione admitted quietly.

Voldemort's brow rose questioningly.

"I thought… I mean… I had heard from Harry that the reason the Killing Curse hadn't worked was because you didn't believe in love. But if what you're telling me is true…"

"Have I any reason to lie?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, you do. But I think you're telling the truth, if only because everything is finally falling into place." Hermione sat up, her eyes brightening. "It explains why, well, why I'm so powerful for one thing. And why my parents acted so strangely when I asked whether this necklace" –she pulled the emerald pendant out from beneath her robes—"was a family heirloom. But… Well, my only question right now is, why didn't the counter-curse kill you? Or, why did it even hurt you at all, if it was only a counter-curse?"

Voldemort sighed heavily. "The Potters, as I mentioned before, were much more powerful than anyone expected, or even knew really. Not only had they discovered the counter-curse, but they were working on perfecting it so that it would not only deflect the curse from you, but deflect itself onto the person who it had originated from. 

Hermione's eyebrows rose. "Then why couldn't you touch Harry when you were trying to get the Philosopher's Stone?"

"Dumbledore," he replied simply. Seeing Hermione's questioning look, he elaborated. "He knew, of course. What I was trying to do. He put a spell on Potter that was specifically calibrated to Quirrell."

"You don't mind my saying that's really quite farfetched, do you?"

"Well," Voldemort replied amiably, "it was Dumbledore. I freely admit that he's probably equal in all my powers."

Hermione's brow furrowed. "If that's trued…then that means you never feared him."

"He was Rhianna's great grandfather. I couldn't very well go around killing her family, now could I?"

Suddenly Hermione had a great desire to laugh. So she did. For a long time.

***

Draco paced his room. He'd returned from delivering Hermione three hours earlier, and had been at it ever since. Something was wrong. He could feel it. He'd known it when Voldemort had ordered them all out. He ran his hands through his hair. There was nothing he could do. There was nothing he could have done.

But he knew that if anything happened to her, he would only blame himself. It had been that way for a long while. He'd taken it upon himself to make her life as peaceful as possible; or at least a peaceful as it could be, under the circumstances. He'd succeeded in keeping Flint away from her, other than the leering looks and the occasional whipping. He shuddered. But at least Flint hadn't raped her. Yet.

That was the operative word, wasn't it? Yet. He wished he had more power. Even if he hated the Dark Lord—and he did—perhaps with more power he might be able to buy Hermione, and keep her away from the others. He gripped the bedpost in sudden anger. He shouldn't have to buy her! She should be free. He groaned, falling to the floor, burying his face in his hands. They should all be free.

***

Hermione looked at herself in the mirror and spun around a few times. The black silk clung alluringly to her body, and she smiled at her reflection. Ah, yes. Being the daughter of Voldemort certainly had its advantages. She was extremely glad that she wasn't a prisoner anymore. Of course, Voldemort had explained that she was not to leave the grounds—but at least now she wouldn't be whipped anymore. 

Anyone who hurt her in any way would answer to Voldemort. And no one wanted to answer to him. It was almost suicide, to make the Dark Lord angry. And hurting the Dark Lord's daughter…ah, yes. The epitome of all bad deeds. 

She hadn't seen Harry since the day before. She hoped he wasn't worrying about her too much. Of course, they probably thought she was dead. She'd thought she was dead as well. In fact, she probably would have been, if her pendant hadn't fallen out of her robe. Voldemort had let her see the matching one more closely, and she had been amazed to discover that they were exactly the same, in every single way.

Voldemort had also given her a few lessons in how she was to act as his daughter. She'd caught on quickly, and could now successfully make Pettigrew quake in his shoes at the mere raise of a brow. She smiled to herself. It really wasn't that difficult, and there was the fact that it was 'in the genes.' 

Hermione was now situated comfortably in the room across from Voldemort's. She supposed she should start to think of him as her father, as that was what everyone else would think of her as. She was giddy with excitement, and couldn't wait to see what Lucius Malfoy thought of her. The asshole would most likely blanch at the site of her decked out in the Dark Lord's jewelry—not to mention the little announcement that she was, in fact, his daughter. 

Ah, yes… This was going to be an interesting evening.

***

Draco sighed, slipping on his dress robes. He had no idea what had happened to Hermione, but now he had a ball to go to. His father insisted that he come. Apparently, Voldemort was making a very important announcement, having to do with his heir… And Lucius was positive that the said heir would be Draco. 

Draco himself had no such thoughts. He supposed it was possible, but he was relatively certain Voldemort would have mentioned something by now. 

The young man walked into the Slytherin common room and saw his father waiting for him, Pansy Parkinson at his side. The girl smiled at him, and he grimaced inwardly. His father wanted him to marry the chit—said it would be a good match. He, of course, would rather marry a snake than marry Pansy, but what his father said was law, and with Voldemort at his back… He was unstoppable. Even in a matter as simple as a marriage.

He offered Pansy his arm and they followed Lucius to the Great Hall. They sat down at the Head table. It was reserved only for Voldemort's most loyal followers—the Malfoys, Peter Pettigrew, and the Legranges, after they had escaped from Azkaban. 

Voldemort suddenly swept into the Great Hall, and all conversation ceased as the Dark Lord's red eyes swept over the populace. His smile was small, and was creased with evil. "I present to you all, my daughter and heir, Lady Hermione Rhianna Thomasine Voldemort."

A collective gasp—that was quickly silenced—swept through the Hall as Hermione came into view. Draco gaped. _Hermione was Voldemort's daughter? No wonder he had gotten everyone to leave the room as quickly as possible. But still, it didn't make complete sense. He saw the servants, the Gryffindors, looking at her with shock, and just a twinge of betrayal. He could understand their feelings, but he had a feeling that Hermione had had no idea she was Voldemort's daughter. After all, why hadn't she been with him the entire time? And why hadn't she been introduced as soon as the Dark Lord had taken over Hogwarts? It had been two months. _

Draco shook his head, daring a glance at his father. The older Malfoy looked quite baffled, and angry as well. Probably at himself. Draco sighed. Lucius was probably berating himself for not realizing who Granger—well, he supposed it was Voldemort now—really was. He didn't blame him. They would most likely be on her bad side, seeing how many times the elder Malfoy had called her a Mudblood and insulted her friends, one of which was now dead. That had to create some enmity.

Hermione was making her way to the Head table, following her father. Her eyes swept across the room, taking everything in. He saw her inquisitive look change to one of pleading, and he followed her gaze to rest on Parvati Patil. She had been in their year, he remembered now. Parvati and Ron had been dating when Hogwarts was attacked, and he was killed. Parvati no doubt blamed Hermione for it now. 

The Dark Lady sat on her father's right side and waited for Voldemort to make his announcement. 

The Dark Lord raised a brow at his daughter, and she gave him a small smile. Draco could have sworn the man had smiled in return, but in a flash it was gone, and the cold, evil bastard was in his place. "You may eat." The tables were filled with food, and conversation started immediately. However, no one at the Head table spoke. Voldemort preferred to eat in peace, quietly, and many had learned the hard way not to speak during mealtimes. Hermione, however, had no such inhibitions. 

"So, Lucius, I hear you have been working on a way to break into the Ministry. How is that coming along?"

Lucius looked panicked, and glanced at Voldemort. The older man merely raised a brow as if to say, 'Well, aren't you going to answer my daughter?' Lucius quickly did so. "Wonderfully, my dear," he said silkily. "But perhaps you would prefer to talk to Miss Parkinson? After all, the potions and charms we are working with are so advanced that I am sure you would not understand…" Lucius trailed off, quaking under the Dark Lord's glare.

"I assure you, _Lucius," Hermione said in a hard voice, "that it is not too advanced for me. I was in the top of my class until you came here, and I believe that I still would be. I studied Advanced Potions, Transfiguration, and Charms. I have snuck into the restricted section of the library countless times in search of information I could not find anywhere else. Surely a little breaking and entering cannot be too difficult __pour moi?"_

Lucius shook his head quickly, "No, of course not, my lady."

"Good." Suddenly she smiled. "So, where were we?"

***************

**A/N:** I once again apologize for waiting so long to update! I swear I didn't mean for it to take this long… And I apologize if Hermione seems slightly out of character. 

**isa: Yeah, I think so too. Thanks!**

**Funky Sinister**: Well, I probably won't reveal the husband until we get there in the story, which, unfortunately for you, is going to be a while. I don't know whether Lavinee has any plots right now, but her e-mail address is Lavinee_rocher@hotmail.com. 

**Dragon-soul**: Glad you think so. I personally really like the Dumbledore/Voldemort thing. Makes it interesting, plus gives really good meaning to her powers. 

**Scyther**: I'll definitely try to!

**myra: I'm glad you have such confidence in us! I'm sorry it took so long to get this chapter up. School can be annoying that way.**

**dracos** gurl**: *laughs* Yup, Dumbldore. **

**~Draco's Angel~**: I almost fell out of my chair when I wrote it. lol. I don't know where that came from…only that it wasn't in the original plot. 

**~Frodo~**: I'm glad. Addicted people keep writing and reviewing, lol. 

**rya,** sad_panda**,** Gryfindor chik**,**** Aragorn Rox: Don't worry, peeps. I'll definitely keep writing, and I'm very grateful for your liking it!**

**tommygurl: I don't entirely know why I've been writing Voldemort like this. I definitely don't see him this way in any of my other fics. Of course, in my other ones he's dead, so I guess it doesn't matter as much…Oh, well. Anyways, glad you like all the twists and turns. Believe me, I'm no where near done with them.**


	4. A Hint of What I'm Thinking

**A/N:** Here is Chapter Four…I once again apologize for the long wait. I'm working as hard as I can. And you should be happy to know that I've outlined the next six or so chapters, as well as the beginning of the second part… Yes, this will be a two-part story. Speaking of which, should I have both parts HERE, in this story, or make a new story for the second part? 

I am sooooo sorry that I am not updating quickly. My mom found out how much fanfics I'm writing (65,000 words), and now she wants me to write a real, original story so that we can sell it and everything. But I am not abandoning this story! Updates should come about once a week.

**If anyone wants to me to e-mail them when the new chapters come up, TELL ME, AND LEAVE YOUR E-MAIL ADDRESS (or, if you're a member, sign in). **

**Rating:** PG-13 (This chapter is actually pushing R, but not so much that I'm going to change the rating. Well, tell me if you think I should.)

**Pairings:** Hermione/Harry, Hermione/Draco

**Disclaimer:** Hey, guess what? Lavinee INSISTS that part of this plot is mine, so I'm actually relatively happy right now. Of course, Joanne still needs to contact me about the characters… *sigh* Oh well. You can't have everything…

**********

_Chapter 4_

Hermione fell back on her bed, clad in a skimpy nightgown. She smirked to herself. Voldemort didn't really care what she wore to bed, and said as much. So she'd had Madame Malkin get her some silk nightgowns and very, very nice (and sexy, if she did say so herself) ball gowns. She'd also ordered some day clothes, which were the only clothing choices that Voldemort had insisted on helping her with. Most of them were black, of course, but otherwise… Well, they were all dark. She didn't much mind, though. Dark colors had always looked good on her. 

She hadn't danced very much, only when Voldemort insisted on it—and that had only been twice. Once with Mr. Legrange, who the Dark Lord had explained was one of his most loyal followers, and Draco Malfoy. It was obvious why he wanted her to dance with him… She assumed he was a prime candidate for her arranged marriage. After all, just her age, and the son of Lucius Malfoy, universally thought to be the next-darkest wizard after Voldemort. She snorted. Yeah, right. 

It might have been universally though, but she knew that Lucius was just a conniving, evil, sucker-up. And what Voldemort had revealed to her about her mother had only intensified her dislike for the man. She was only grateful that now Lucius would have no reason to call her "Mudblood," and, of course, that if he hurt her in any way, he would have to answer to her father. She shivered. Even with her new perspective of the man, it still freaked her out that she was his daughter. 

She burrowed into the soft linen sheets of her full-size canopy bed, thinking about all her friends from Gryffindor. It had hurt her indescribably, the look Parvati Patil had given her at the ball. She understood of course, but it couldn't lessen the hurt. Finding out that she was the daughter of Lord Voldemort… She knew most people wouldn't give her a second thought after this. 

She closed her eyes, trying to block the memory that was quickly coming to her mind.

_Hermione concentrated on taking notes, trying to ignore the glares Snape was sending her way every five seconds. She didn't know why he was acting so … jumpy, she supposed. It was strange, because 'jumpy' had never been a word she would have used to describe the greasy-haired professor. She supposed something had happened with Voldemort. She knew he was a spy. It had been obvious after what Dumbledore had said in her fourth year, as well as what Harry had revealed about the trial in the Headmaster's pensieve. _

_Suddenly she heard a high-pitched scream. She jerked her head around and saw a girl – what was her name? Ah, yes, Mandy Brocklehurst, a Ravenclaw, her year – standing in the open door. "Death Eaters," she gasped. "They're…here." Then she ran again, towards the Great Hall. _

_Snape__ stood, and said, calmly, "Everyone into the Hall. Quietly and quickly, please." They filed out, all obeying his orders for fear of his wrath. Hermione noticed the Slytherins were going slowly, almost dragging their feet. She resisted the urge to hurry them along. She had a feeling Snape wouldn't like her interference. _

_They'd only made it to the entrance to the dungeons before they were stopped. A Death Eater stood in front of them and threw down his hood. It was Lucius Malfoy. He nodded to Snape, who stood back and watched as Lucius walked through the sea of students. They were all paralyzed with fear. Harry was near the back, with Ron. They looked like they were debating whether to run or not. Silently she begged them not to. _

_Neville Longbottom panicked. He tried to run._

_Pansy Parkinson pointed her wand at him and shouted, "Avada Kedavra!" In a flash of green light, the forgetful boy, almost a man, was gone. Dead. Hermione choked back a sob. Lucius continued until he reached Harry and Ron. He sneered at both of them before grabbing Harry roughly around his upper arm and started to drag him away._

_Ron whipped out his wand. "What do you think you're doing, you bast—"_

_  
He never finished the insult._

_And he never spoke again. He never laughed again. He never smiled again._

_Ron Weasley was dead.  _

Hermione choked back a sob. She couldn't think about it. She _wouldn't_ think about it! If she did, she knew she start crying uncontrollably, and she couldn't do that anymore. Her best friend was dead. 

It had drawn herself and Harry closer together than ever before, both desperate not to lose the other, now that they'd lost Ron. Their relationship had become more than friendly within the first week after the attack. 

She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing fervently that Harry would understand everything that was happening, and not blame her for Ron's death. He had to understand, and not judge her for being Voldemort's daughter. Because if he didn't… 

She didn't even want to think about it.

***

Voldemort swept into his chambers, stopping short when he saw the bed. There was a woman in it. He glared at her, silently daring her to say something. When she saw him, she smiled. "My lord," she purred, "I thought you might like some company…"

"Get OUT!" he yelled at her. 

She scurried from the room, grabbing her robe where she had thrown it near the door. 

Voldemort stared at the bed before walking back into the sitting room and lying on the couch. He hadn't slept with anyone since Rhianna. He knew that it was believed otherwise—wouldn't be surprised if his daughter thought so as well—but he had loved Rhianna with a passion that couldn't be forgotten, and he knew that he would only hate himself if he tried to forget her. 

Well, there was also the fact that he just hadn't felt the urge for anyone _after_ her. He laughed to himself. Imagine him admitting _that_ to anyone. Ah, well. It didn't much matter, anyways. No one questioned him. No one ever would.

***

Draco lay back in his bed, staring at the ceiling. Was there really anything he could do about Hermione? Not anymore. She was Lord Voldemort's daughter. She was now connected and protected better than he could offer her. He was glad for her, of course. Glad that she, at least, was free. Or at least freer than the other Gryffindors were. She wasn't completely free of course, just like he was not. 

The two months since the Dark Lord had taken Hogwarts had been just that: dark. Everything was silent, cold, and evil. The Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs left all sensed it, even if they weren't entirely sure where it came from. They knew at least not to go near the dungeons without a very good reason. 

Flint was one of the worst, one of the most evil. Terrance Higgs, the seeker for the Slytherin team in Draco's first year, probably came in second. 

Draco supposed that it was a good thing that he, at least, was not as evil as the rest of them were. He knew that he had to be at least somewhat evil, for not stopping his father somehow. He was weak, and he knew it. 

Draco sighed, rubbing his neck. At least he didn't have the Dark Mark yet. But he knew it was only a matter of time before he did. 

He knew that his father was going to want to him to marry Hermione. He really didn't have a problem with that, seeing as how that was what he wanted all along, but he didn't want it like this. He knew that it would be an arranged marriage, and he wanted her to marry him of her own free will. 

***

Lucius Malfoy was a bastard. Not in the literal sense, of course. His parents had been married when he'd been born, thank you very much. But he was a bastard in the sense that he acted like one; he had been made a bastard because in his heart, that was what he was. If he even had a heart. 

His only aspirations were political ones; he wanted power, and lots of it. If sucking up to the Dark Lord were the only way he could get that power, then so be it. He knew he was sucking up—kissing ass, if you will—but he didn't care. So long as he had power to kill, to rape, and to just dominate others in general, he was happy.

His current aspiration was his son. Or rather, his son's marriage. It would be political; that much was certain. Originally, he had wanted Draco to marry Pansy Parkinson—her parents were high on Voldemort's list of allies. But now… Hermione Rhianna Thomasine Voldemort was a very worthy candidate. 

The fact that he had spent that last six years calling her "Mudblood," and insulting her friends slipped his mind, of course.

But Draco's betrothal to Pansy Parkinson…yes, it had been a betrothal. That would be difficult to get out of. That meant that he needed Voldemort to want Draco and Hermione's marriage, if Lucius would be able to back out of Pansy and Draco's betrothal agreement. He hoped it wouldn't be too difficult. The Dark Lord did not like it when someone else came up with an idea…

***

Pansy Parkinson sat on her bed, fuming. She'd seen the way Draco had looked at the Mudblood. Although… she tilted her head, thinking. She wasn't a Mudblood anymore, now was she? She was the daughter of Voldemort. That made her extremely high up on the scale. Maybe even the next in line after Voldemort himself.

But it didn't matter where she ranked. The fact was that Draco had looked at someone—anyone besides her—with a look of what she could only describe as lust. And then Lucius had looked at her as well. Luckily, the expression had not been the same. Pansy knew she would probably have puked had that been true. 

But Lucius had looked at her with appraisal…and then he had turned to Pansy with the same look. She was almost certain he had found her lacking in some way. It made her blood boil to think that anyone was above her in any way. 

Well, if they thought that they could back out of the betrothal agreement—and Pansy knew that was what they were thinking of doing—they had another think coming.

Because she would that didn't happen.

And Draco—as well as Lucius, eventually—would regret ever thinking of getting rid of her.

***************

**A/N:** Ooh, can you say, 'cat fight'?? Well, maybe not. We'll see, lol. 

**Helena**: I'm glad you don't think that Hermione is out of character! That's very much the way I saw it as well, actually, but I often don't think people see things the same way I do.

**Erica G.**: I'm very glad that you are happy about all of the mechanics and the grammar. I'm a nitpicker like that. I think that if my story ever clumped into one paragraph, I might end up just not posting it. But I like to think I'm good enough with electronics that that wouldn't happen, lol. ^^

**dracoNmione: I will definitely send you e-mails when I update. Thanks so very much! **

**Isa**: Sorry I didn't update all that fast; see the first A/N for more info about that. Thank you so much for liking my story!

**Rise**: Well, I am very grateful to your friend for recommending me. ^^ Please tell them thank you from me. Oh, and read the first A/N for info about the updating fast thing.

**Ysanna**: Don't worry, there is no way I am abandoning that story. It might take me a while to update, but I'm not leaving this story, believe me!

**~Frodo~**: Don't worry about it! So long as you read it eventually, I'm fine with it, lol.

**Envya**: I'm glad you like it so much, and I'm sorry I haven't been updating fast. But all my chapters are around 2,000 words, so that's good,  don't you agree?


	5. The Hold on My Emotions

**A/N:** Hello again, wonderful readers! (and definitely reviewers…) Here is the next chapter. I apologize for the wait. Unfortunately, one of my stories got booted, meaning that I couldn't upload any new chapters for a week. So here we are…

I changed the prophesy! There's a new line that you'll see in this chapter. I'll change it in the other chapters soon.

Oh, and I **changed the rating** because this chapter really deserves it. There's allusions to a very violent rape; don't read it if you'll get queasy, but I wouldn't recommend skipping it, since what happens is very important to character development, particularly Hermione's and Voldemort's. But it is really, really dark, and it deserves the rating. Trust me.

**If anyone wants to me to e-mail them when the new chapters come up, TELL ME, AND LEAVE YOUR E-MAIL ADDRESS (or, if you're a member, sign in). **

**Rating:** R (This chapter deserves its R-rating; see the a/n)

**Pairings:** Hermione/Harry, Hermione/Draco

**Disclaimer:** Would you believe that I own quite a bit of this plot by now? I'm changing it that much… But the characters still aren't mine… *growl*

**********

_Chapter 5_

Hermione rolled onto her stomach still trying to get to sleep. She knew it was futile, especially after remembering Ron's death. Every time she 'took a walk down memory lane,' to use a bad cliché, sleep was impossible.

She rolled out of bed and grabbed her wand, heading to the kitchens for a mug of hot cocoa. Along the way she kept her eyes peeled for anyone else up and out of bed. She supposed it was instinct more than anything, left over from when she was a prefect and later Head Girl. She shivered. The dungeons were cold.

There was a muffled noise to her left, and Hermione turned down the corridor. She was shaking, but she pulled out her wand and tiptoed toward the sound. She squinted through the darkness, trying to see and not be seen, not daring to light her wand. She almost gasped at what she saw, and her brown eyes darkened until they were almost black. Anger boiled deep in the pit of her stomach as she pointed her wand and yelled the first thing that came to her mind.

It was lucky for Marcus Flint that he was only petrified, for Hermione knew some horrible hexes and curses. He deserved more, of course, and the only reason Hermione didn't follow up with something dreadful was a whimper to the bastard's right.

Hermione hurried over, whispering, "Lumos," and gasped. It was Laura Madley's little sister, Amanda, a third year Hufflepuff. Her robes were ripped, and she was weeping silently. Pity and hate were warring silently within Hermione and she only just caught herself before she cast the Killing Curse on Flint.

There was blood. Oh, gods, was there blood. It was all over the floor, Amanda's robes, and on Flint himself. The bastard would pay, Hermione vowed silently. Yes, he would pay…very dearly. And to make sure of that, she would turn him over to her father.

***

Voldemort paced his chambers. Sleep seemed impossible, but he had no idea what to do. He almost laughed. Imagine telling that to anyone from the Ministry—or even one of his own followers. The Dark Lord at a loss for what to do? He shook his head grimly. No one would believe it.

His alert ears heard a hushed voice speak before it was silenced by a loud, feminine, demanding one. The barest hint of a smile graced his lips as he realized it must be his daughter. He walked out to the two, who were so caught up in their argument that they did not notice him.

"—miss, he is sleeping—"

"I will speak to him _now_ Pettigrew, or I will _kill_ you, do you hear me? Trust me, I am in no mood to be trifled with. And don't forget that there is unfinished business between us, Pettigrew. It's been four years, but I haven't forgotten a thing." Hermione's eyes gleamed brightly as Pettigrew cowered under her glare. Voldemort was amazed to see that her eyes were almost coal-black. He'd have to investigate that more closely later.

The older man stepped out of the shadows. Hermione seemed unfazed by his sudden appearance, but Pettigrew jumped at least a foot in the air. Voldemort quickly stopped a bark of laughter and said in a quiet, oily voice, "Pettigrew, I do believe that my daughter commanded you, did she not?" As the rat quailed under his gaze, Voldemort barked, "Leave us!"

And so he did. As soon as Pettigrew was out of hearing range, Hermione dropped her Dark Lady demeanor and grabbed her father's hand. "You must come quickly!" she said urgently, pulling him down the corridor. He was surprised, but followed her nonetheless. They hadn't traveled far before Hermione pulled him down a corridor he hadn't noticed before. Just as he was making a mental note to inspect the dungeons more closely, his daughter stopped walking. She seemed to be waiting for something.

Voldemort glanced around the darkened corridor, almost blanching when he saw the young girl lying on the floor, her robes ripped, blood everywhere. He shifted his gaze to the motionless form to the right, and bit back a curse. Flint. He should have known the brute had been too quiet lately.

The Dark Lord looked up at his daughter, who was glaring at Flint with what could only be described as pure hatred. He couldn't blame her. She jerked her eyes from the man's still form to look at her father.

"What will we do with them?" she asked in a tightly controlled voice.

"Well, the girl will go to Madam Pomfrey, and the boy…" His eyes darkened. "He will soon wish he was never born."

Hermione seemed satisfied with that and walked over to the girl cautiously. "Amanda?" she asked quietly. The girl whimpered slightly. "It's Hermione," she whispered. "Remember? Do you remember me, Hermione Granger? I was Head Girl." The Hufflepuff nodded almost imperceptibly and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm going to bring you to the infirmary, alright?" She muttered a few spells under her breath before Amanda was floating beside her. They headed towards the infirmary, and so long as they were within hearing range Hermione didn't stop whispering comforting words to the younger girl.

Voldemort turned back to Flint and muttered the counter to "Petrificus Totalus." Flint stood up immediately and grinned. "Women," he sneered. "Eh, my lord?"

The Dark Lord's mouth curved into an evil smile, and, pointing his wand directly at Flint, he whispered, "Crucio." Flint immediately fell to the floor, whimpering with pain. "Does that feel _good?" he whispered menacingly. "Do you think Amanda _liked_ what you did to her?" The Dark Lord was nearly shaking with the force of his rage. "I believe that you need to learn something, Flint. When you want sex, you go to Pansy Parkinson or Millicent Bulstrode. They love getting knocked up. And you will never do that again." He paused, slowing his breathing with great difficulty before continuing in a thoughtful voice, "Of course… you probably won't have much of a chance to do that, will you?"_

He laughed menacingly. "You're going to be the new test subject for all the Death Eaters. Hexes and curses will be constantly hurled at you as my new Death Eaters try to move their way up in the ranks… Won't that be fun?"

Flint could only shudder in response before drifting into blissful unconsciousness, a loud, raucous, evil laughter filling his ears.

***

  
Hermione sank down against the wall, finally allowing the sobs to rack her body. _Gods, why me?_ she cried silently. It was getting to be too much… But she knew that she'd have to just square her shoulders and take it. It still wasn't as bad as it had been in third year, with the time turner and all of her classes and Buckbeak, and not being able to speak to Harry and Ron first because of the Firebolt and then about Scabbers…

She shook her head, getting rid of the memories. There were good ones mixed in, true, but overall that had been a very stressful year. She didn't need to remember that right now. 

Hermione took a deep shuddering breath, trying to get her sobs under control. She didn't want anyone to see her. No one had ever seen her lose her control like that besides Harry and Ron. Well, not quite this much at least. She'd always held onto at least a bit of it to be released in private. 

Amanda would be okay, Madam Pomfrey had said. Or at least as okay as you can be after being raped by Marcus Flint. The man—if he deserved such a civilized title—was as brutal as one could be without being… Well, he was as brutal as a man could be. Hermione had stayed only long enough to get Madam Pomfrey's report. She'd watched the Medi-witch, unable to tear her eyes from the third year's broken body. 

Amanda had a broken leg and a few ribs, a fractured wrist, and her psychological state was nearly shattered. Madam Pomfrey would need a miracle to get the girl back to her old self. Hermione had a feeling it wouldn't happen.

She bit her lip and buried her face against her knees, trying ineffectually to stop another onslaught of tears. Her body shook violently with the force of her sobs, and she remembered her mother—well, who she'd accepted for sixteen years as her mother, Eloise Granger—telling her when she was younger that it was okay to cry. She missed her. It didn't matter that Eloise hadn't been her real mother; she'd taken care of her since whenever it was that her real mother—Rhianna Marie Dumbledore Riddle—had left her with the Grangers. Eloise had loved her as if Hermione had been her own flesh-and-blood daughter, and Hermione respected that. She admired it. 

She supposed it was one of those things that all parents tell their children. "It's okay to cry." And it was true, it really was. She had a feeling that if she didn't let these sobs out, and let them stay bottled up inside of her, they'd eventually explode in a way she really did not want to know about. She gave a choked laugh. She really was avoiding the issue, wasn't she? 

She was afraid that she would do something she would regret. Specifically, kill someone. Her father—her biological father, that is—wasn't as bad as she had thought at first, no, but he was still Voldemort. She had a feeling he'd been worse in his youth, more power-hungry and … evil. She also guessed that Rhianna had helped pull him out of that. But she was afraid that she might become evil if she let enough rage become bottled up inside of her. Sure, she had Harry, but how long would it last? He was the one in the prophesy, there was no doubt about it. It would only be a matter of time before Voldemort decided the time was right to kill him. 

Hermione was reluctant to tell Harry about the prophesy. She didn't think that he should know, for whatever reason. The prophesy… There was something about it that wasn't quite right, and she was afraid that they might interpret it wrong and do the wrong thing. She thought back to the words…

_When the Daughter of the Dark _

_And the Son of the Light unite_

_In body, heart, mind and soul,_

_The Dark Lord shall be no more._

And yet, there really wasn't that much room for interpretation, now was there? The Daughter of the Dark and the Son of the Light fall in love and then they have sex, surrendering everything to the other. It really was not that difficult. But she couldn't tell Harry about it. She had no idea why not. He was her best friend, and he was almost her lover. Almost. They had the horrible luck of being interrupted at the most inopportune moments. She actually cracked a smile at the thought. 

Hermione heard soft footsteps echoing down the hall, and she quickly stood up, trying to wipe her eyes. She'd stopped sobbing, thank the Gods. 

Hmm. But the Gods didn't seem willing to stretch her luck… It was Draco Malfoy. He looked at her, noticing the tear stains on her cheeks and the puffiness of her eyes. However, he didn't say anything about it. He just walked over and pulled her into his arms. She immediately stiffened, but being held in such a … _comforting_ embrace really did nothing to help her keep her composure. She burst into tears again, giving no thought to the fact that this was _Draco Malfoy_, the spawn of the Dark Lord—_oops, wait_, she thought with a very strange giggle (well, it was strange considering she was sobbing), _I'm the spawn of the Dark Lord, not Draco…_

Well, she gave no thought to the fact that this was _Draco Malfoy, the normally, calm, collected, and decidedly cold bastard. _

Yes, that seemed a good way to describe him. 

Well, the him she knew at least. This whole thing was so confusing Hermione was surprised she didn't just keel over and die. She didn't think anyone would blame her if she did, especially the Gryffindors. Then again, they would probably rejoice at the thought of the traitor's death. This thought brought on another round of tears. Honestly, she'd fought against the Dark Lord for six blasted years, been Harry's friend for all of it, and befriended half the school through it all. 

_I suppose it really shows you who your true friends are…_ she thought grimly. The thought made her jolt inwardly. _Does this mean that that Draco is my friend?_ She frowned. It really didn't seem possible. Implausible, really. Draco, friend? She snorted silently, all the while melting further into his embrace. She barely registered it when he dropped to the floor, cradling her in his arms. It was almost as though he … cared for her or something. 

But that was impossible. He was a Malfoy. Malfoys didn't care about anything or anyone. There was no question about that. 

***************

**A/N:** *shivers* This fic is getting dark. Sorry 'bout that.

**Cathy, Crystalnia, Lauren**: You guys are on the updates list, don't worry. :)

**avri: I'm glad you think it's getting better!**

**Ysanna****, rya: Yup, I've updated. ^^**

**rise**: I'm sorry it's been so long, but first my mum didn't want me to update at all (because she wants me to write an original story that I can sell or whatever), then I had this week-long thing I was covering for the school's newspaper, then one of my stories got booted from ff.net… Well, here we are. Sorry it wasn't that fast. As for the end pairing… Well, I would say "that's for me to know and for you to find out," but I'll give you a hint. You know how you can choose what characters this goes under? Well, does this story come up under Draco and Hermione or Harry and Hermione? That's all I'll tell you. And you won't know for sure until Part Two. 

**liana**: I'm glad you don't think that this is too 'out there.' That's always my fear when writing, that I'll do something that just would not happen in real life. Well, real HP life at least, lol.

**tommygurl: No problem. ^^ And yup, that chapter did have a lot of POVs, lol. As for Hermione's husband…well, you won't know for sure until Part Two. It'll be in the first chapter of Part Two that you'll find out.**

**dan's**** gurl: You're making me blush!**


	6. Relief Lifting Up My Heart

**A/N:** I wrote this thing right after I finished chapter 5. In fact, there was some debate as to whether chapters 5 and 6 would be one chapter (a long one), but I decided that I should have this hanging around for when I got behind on schoolwork or whatever. You know, so that you'll still have at least one update a week.

Fifty-nine reviews!! That's the most I've ever had on an HP fic!! I'm really, really happy. And a happy me means more updates for you, so keep 'em coming!

Okay, so I apologize so much for not updating for almost two weeks, especially since I had this thing ready-to-go. Well, mostly. I still need to proof-read it once more, but then it will be posted, I swear!

For anyone who is reading my other stories, I will be updating them this weekend as well. Especially "Just One Night." Anyone who is reading that gets lots and lots of cookies since I made them wait so long. 

Oh, and I **changed the rating** because from now on the fic will deserve it. Trust me. Not pretty…

**If anyone wants to me to e-mail them when the new chapters come up, TELL ME, AND LEAVE YOUR E-MAIL ADDRESS (or, if you're a member, sign in). **

**Rating:** R (for attempted rape and a snogging session)

**Pairings:** Hermione/Harry, Hermione/Draco

**Disclaimer:** I don't own it! Don't sue! I don't own anything!

**********

_Chapter 6_

Voldemort fumed silently the entire way back to his chambers. He'd found Pettigrew, the lousy rat, and told him to put Flint in the Vertinsle Chamber. His thin lips curved into a sneer. The Vertinsles had been masters of torture in the old days, just around the time when the Founders had built Hogwarts. Salazar Slytherin, in particular, had been extremely interested in their work, and had set up a room dedicated to them.

Godric Gryffindor had, to say the least, lost his temper. He'd said Slytherin had gone too far, and ordered him to get rid of it, that torture chambers had no place in a school. Slytherin had said that he didn't take orders from anyone, but had supposedly gotten rid of the instruments anyway. 

Supposedly.

It was the key word, of course. He'd never gotten rid of them; they really were too valuable, even if they were made by Muggles. Salazar Slytherin had nothing against Muggles, actually, just against Muggle-born witches and wizards. His argument was that they knew nothing of their—the witches' and wizards', that is—ways, and would most likely expose them to the Muggle world. Seeing as how at that time witches and wizards were being persecuted mercilessly, many believed Slytherin had a valid point. 

But he hadn't gotten rid of the instruments. He'd just … hidden them. And, once again, said that only his heir would be able to find them. Meaning that it had to do with more snakes. The chamber had been left the way it was, but the instruments had been hidden. In plain view, really. You walked into the chamber, hissed "Open," in Parseltongue, and a staircase would come into view. It led further into the dungeons—not too far, actually, just enough to hide the things. 

It was a lesser-known story, which was why most had never heard of it; but it was true. And that was what counted.

The purpose of locking Flint in there was just to forget about him. For a while, at least. But then, of course, when he needed to he would send his worst Death Eaters down to practice curses and hexes on the bastard. 

Voldemort strode into his chambers, and his gaze fell upon his bed. Thankfully, there was no girl or woman in it this time. His eyes flickered over to the left, to the vanity. There was a small glass vial there. It held a small amount of Rhianna's blood—most likely mixed with a bit of his—left over from the bonding ceremony. 

Thinking of the blood brought back the memory of Amanda. 

And thinking of Amanda made him think of when something similar had almost happened to Rhianna.

_Voldemort strode to the entrance hall of his mansion, scowling. Rhianna—he refused to call her Dumbledore, for the obvious reasons—had once again tried to escape. Would the bloody girl never give up? He'd never get anywhere if she kept doing this. But he knew very well that he'd never let her go free. There was too much at risk._

_And as much as he hated to admit it, she was growing on him. He almost looked forward to seeing her, almost being the operative word, seeing as how just about the only time he did see her was after a botched escape. The rest of the time she was ensconced in her chamber, planning another escape. _

_The front door flew open and Voldemort glared at his servants. They cowered appropriately. Barely out of school, Lucius Malfoy and his two goons, Crabbe and Goyle, stood on the front stoop. The latter two did whatever he told them to, and didn't ask questions. Yes, they were good servants._

_Lucius, however… he had a bit of a rebellious streak in him. He'd have to keep an eye on that one. _

_"My lord," Lucius said, bowing deeply. Voldemort nodded his head almost imperceptibly before turning on his heal and heading to the upstairs drawing room. He heard the men follow him and sneered to himself. _

_Leaving them in the room, he headed to Rhianna's, feeling the need to check on her once more. He had a strange sixth sense about her that had become very handy since her almost-daily attempted escapes. He threw open the door, and found the room empty except for one lone house elf. He strode over to it and pointed his wand at the creature. "Where is she?" he growled menacingly._

_The elf shook, "Me is not knowing, sir. Mistress said she would be going, but Linna not know where, master." The creature continued to quake in fear, and Voldemort allowed a hint of a sneer to grace his face._

_He strode back to the drawing room, intending to show his 'guests' out. He needed to be able to pay complete attention to the search for Rhianna. He couldn't believe she had disappeared again, so soon. _

_Just as he was nearing the room, his ears caught Lucius Malfoy's sickening voice. "Well, well, well, what have we here?" _

_A terrified shriek sounded from the room before it was silenced. Voldemort raced the rest of the way and burst into the room. Rhianna was on the floor, her clothes ripped. Lucius was standing over her, trying to free himself. _

_"Crucio!"__ Voldemort screamed. _

_Lucius was suddenly writhing on the floor in pain. Voldemort stepped in front of Rhianna, keeping his wand trained on Lucius, blocking her from the view of Malfoy's goons. They were leering at her as if she were a common prostitute. Which they undoubtedly thought she was, seeing as how she was in the Dark Lord's mansion, supposedly living off of him. _

_Voldemort didn't release the Cruciatus until he felt a hand on his arm. He looked up from Lucius' body and saw Rhianna looking at him pleadingly. "Please," she whispered. "Stop. He's a bloody bastard and he doesn't deserve to live, but please. Stop."_

_And he stopped. He never knew completely why. Perhaps it was because of her tear-stained face, and a long-forgotten emotion—pity. Or perhaps it was the fact that he had finished with Malfoy anyway._

_But the best bet was that, for the first time since he had seen her, Rhianna was looking at him with something other than utter hatred and loathing present in her eyes. And that was worth anything, even if he didn't realize it then._

Voldemort smiled. A real, true smile. Even if most of the memory had been a sad one—he distinctly remembered trying to crush his bed post at one point—the end had always cheered him. Rhianna had looked at him with something other than hatred. It was the first time, and it hadn't been the last. Just like he'd told Hermione, Rhianna had slowly come to see him in a new light.

If it wasn't for her, he knew he would be a very different man today. And although he knew that some wished he was a different man, he also knew that the difference would be a bad one. If it hadn't been for Rhianna, he would have been worse. More evil, more demanding. More unstoppable. 

The truth was, the Wizarding world owed their lives to her. And they would never know.

***

Hermione took a deep, shuddering breath and leaned away from Malfoy. She'd finally pulled herself together, even if she'd pretty much thoroughly soaked his shirt first. A small giggle pushed its way past her lips, and she slapped a hand over them, blushing.

Malfoy raised a brow. "What's so funny?" he grinned.

"N-nothing," she said, hiding a smile behind her hand. She couldn't believe Draco Malfoy had grinned. Truly grinned; not that evil smirk-type thing he'd always used in school. It was strange. 

But that wasn't the only thing that was strange.

She, Hermione Ann Granger—well, Hermione Rhianna Thomasine Riddle, she supposed—was sitting on Draco Malfoy's lap in the corridor. Anyone could walk down it and see them. There was also the fact that she didn't really care. Something had broken as she'd lain in his arms and cried her heart out. She supposed it was the way that they'd always been enemies. It was gone. He was just a regular person now. 

It was strange. She'd said that before, of course (was it twice?) but she didn't care. It didn't really matter in her opinion. 

Because it was strange. There was no other way to describe it. Draco Malfoy had been her and her friends' sworn enemy for six blasted years, and now she was sitting on his lap without a care in the world.

Then again, it probably wouldn't matter if anyone did walk by and see them. If it was a Slytherin or a Death Eater, they would just say that the two were probably having an affair or some such thing. If it were anyone else (i.e., a Gryffindor or a Hufflepuff or a Ravenclaw)… Well, she supposed she really couldn't go down any further in their estimation anyway. It would be alright, she reassured herself.

"Thanks," she said softly. "I'm really very grateful for this."

He nodded, a hint of a smile on his lips. 

Hermione hopped up off his lap and smiled at him before heading off toward the Gryffindor tower. She needed to see Harry, and hopefully explain to him everything that had happened. She gave up trying to remain calm and sprinted the rest of the way. She halted at the portrait. It was the Fat Lady. She had only stayed because she had been threatened if she didn't. 

"Dark days rising," Hermione whispered. It was the master password. She smiled wryly. They really needed to come up with one less obvious. 

No one was in the common room, but Hermione snuck up to the seventh year boys' dormitory. She glanced around the room before tiptoeing over to Harry's bed. She clapped a hand over his mouth and shook him awake, only releasing him when she was sure that he wouldn't make a sound. He followed her down to the common room, giving her a fierce hug as soon as she halted.

Hermione sunk gratefully into her friend's embrace, but didn't cry. She'd been all cried-out, thank you very much. Harry pulled away and searched Hermione's face. His own softened, and he gave her a small smile, which she promptly returned. He ran a hand through her hair and lowered his mouth to hers.

Hermione sighed against his mouth, her arms going around his neck. Gods, how she'd missed him. 

His tongue prodded her lips, seeking entry, which she granted quickly. Her hands went into his unruly hair and she sank against him, grinning inwardly. One of Harry's hands came up from where it was resting on her hip and grazed her breast, sending shivers down her spine. It was this that jolted her back to awareness, and she broke the kiss, gasping for breath, and leaned her head on his shoulder. 

Harry pulled them down to the nearest couch and into his lap. As soon as she caught her breath, she explained everything to him. Her father, mother, what she knew of their relationship, Voldemort's explanation of why the Killing Curse hadn't killed Harry, et cetera. But she didn't tell him about the prophesy. And he didn't ask why Voldemort had come after him. She supposed that not knowing for six years made the question go to the back of his mind. 

As soon as she was done, Harry pulled in a deep, shuddering breath. "Gods, 'Mione. How did we get ourselves into this one?"

She chuckled softly. "I don't know."

They talked for a few more minutes, about everything Hermione had just revealed. They didn't get anywhere. They didn't come up with any brilliant plans. Harry gave Hermione one more passionate kiss before she left, muttering something about getting back to her room before someone noticed she was missing.

Hermione jogged back to her room, thinking everything over. Harry hadn't turned on her, and for that she was extremely grateful.

***

Draco's fist clenched as he remembered what he'd seen in the Gryffindor common room. Hermione and Potter had shared a very nice snogging session that Draco freely admitted he was extremely jealous of. Honestly, though? Was it really _smart doing that around here? Voldemort was almost as all-knowing as Dumbledore, for the Gods' sakes. _

He'd known that there was something going on between Potter and Hermione, but he'd never had the opportunity to see it. Now that he had, he wished he hadn't. It would no doubt haunt his dreams—that is, if he even got to sleep with that mental image staring him in the face. 

***************

**A/N:** Poor Draco! *grin* So, what are your thoughts? Ideas? Likes? Dislikes? Trust me when I say that I always take everything my reviewers say seriously, so don't hesitate to tell me what's on your mind!

**catherine**:** Well, thank you very much! And I can't reveal the pairing, although if you really like D/H then I suggest you read my other story, "Last Will and Testament."**

**Dracoslover****: *blushes* I'm so glad you think so. :)**

**Naurhen****: Thank you so much for adding me to your favorites, I love it when that happens. :) And I'm glad you think it's well-written! That's always my goal when it comes to writing, lol. Sorry this update took so long; life, you know.**

**LuvinDraco****: Geez, people really seem to like my writing, lol. Not that I'm complaining! But I'm very glad that you like this story, and think that it's believable.**

**mimi** girl:** I know, I hated killing Ron off but I needed his death to catalyst Hermione and Harry's relationship. Their relationship is very, very important to the plot.**

**Alexandra Trent:** I definitely will, don't worry about that. :)

**kiki-0303****: Wow. You have a very good grasp of all this, almost better than mine! I totally forgot about Hermione thinking that Draco is only saying he loves her because he needs to marry her to elevate his own status. It helped bridge a plot gap I had. Thanks. I'm glad you like Voldemort, lol. He IS a good father, isn't he? I think that he really wants what is best for Hermione, although it might not seem like it at times. His story is a bittersweet one. At one point I might decide to write his and Rhianna's story, although I rather doubt it since I know that it will have a sad ending, and I hate sad endings. But we'll learn more about Rhianna later in the story, and therefore more about Voldemort. Just so you know, your e-mail bounced back when I sent the update to you. winkies@sinagirl.com, right? **

**Crystalline Lily:** I will definitely e-mail you when I update! I'm glad you love this fic, because I do too, lol.

 **XoXHermioneFanX0X: I'm so glad you like it, and you ARE on the updates list. :)**

**lizzy**:** I'm sorry I didn't post soon, life got in the way and all that stuff. I'll try to update sooner, I swear!**

**pole**** vault chik: I bet they are too. Glad you like it! I really rely on my reviewers to up my self-esteem. *grin***

**Avri****: Thank you!!**

**silverspark**:** Lol, glad you think so. **

**sparklingmoon585:** *laughs* Well, I had to stop somewhere. Although, I probably could have combined chapters 5 and 6. In fact, that's how they were written originally. But I decided to have them like this. And because of that, I have no good excuse for not updating, and for that I apologize considerably!

**Rya****: I'm writing, I'm writing! Chapter 7 is already started!**

**girl-malfoy****:** I agree!

**I-LOVE-DRACO:** I'm glad, and I'm sorry you had to wait so long!

**Dreaming One:** Yes, it was rather daring of him, wasn't it? I need to include his reasons for hugging her somewhere in this story, so I won't tell you now, although you will find out, don't worry. I loved Hermione's attitude towards Lucius too! It was hilarious; I figured we all needed some comic relief. And as for your last comment… Well, I know why she did it, but I'm not sure when I'm going to tell everyone. There's some discrepancies if you compare it to the way she treated Draco, because he never raped someone (violently, I might add) she cared about. Sure, he verbally taunted them, and I wouldn't be surprised if they got into some physical scrapes in later years… But he was nowhere near as … mean … as Flint. There's also something else, but I can't tell you about it. My only hint is to think about her eyes. Reread the chapter if you have to.


	7. When My Heart Is Heavy

**A/N:** I wrote this… today. Pretty much all of it. I just sat down and said, "I'm going to write this. If it's crap, I'll start again, but I'm going to try." Lol, but I guess I succeeded, since you're reading it!

I am speechless. People keep recommending this fic to other people, so I'm STILL getting reviews, even though I haven't updated in forever! I have 90 reviews! I love you people!

Okay, so I apologize so much for not updating for more than two weeks! I'd already started this chapter, too! Of course, I ended up ditching it and starting from scratch…Ah well. Still no excuse.

For anyone who is reading my other stories, I apologize for not updating. I'm having problems. Not with my home life, but with writing. I'll get through it, don't worry.

**If anyone wants to me to e-mail them when the new chapters come up, TELL ME, AND LEAVE YOUR E-MAIL ADDRESS (or, if you're a member, sign in). **

**Rating:** R (I'm sorry, it's another attempted rape. I hate this! I didn't think I would write another one, I swear, but they fit with the darkness of the plot. I swear I never know what I'm going to write when I sit down. I just…write.)

**Pairings:** Hermione/Harry, Hermione/Draco

**Disclaimer:** *silence; a loud cough is heard from the back of the auditorium and then all is silent again after that person leaves*

**********

_Chapter 7_

Hermione stirred in her bed, slowly gaining consciousness. She'd had a late night, that was for certain. She had gotten to bed at—what had it been?—around four in the morning. She thanked the gods that her father had given her permission to have breakfast in her room whenever she didn't feel like taking it in the Great Hall. At least he understood her need for privacy.

Honestly, she didn't feel as though she could survive being subject to the gaze of dozens of Death Eaters and their underprivileged wives. Dra—Malfoy she wasn't as concerned about anymore, but the rest of them… Well, she just knew that she would never fully understand why her father even wanted to have them as servants. They made pretty pitiful ones in her opinion. 

The young woman slowly opened her eyes, silently begging them to adjust to the light. It _hurt_, damn it! She didn't even care that she was swearing, albeit internally. She shook her head. Hanging around all these Death Eaters was really going to have a bad influence on her. 

Hermione shuddered, thinking of Flint again. She knew that some would question why it was that she had turned him over to her father, despite the fact that she didn't understand it. Of course, she'd always had a gift for knowing what other people would say to try and discredit her. She supposed it came from reading so much. Then again, now that she knew what she did about her genetics, she could have inherited it. 

She shook her head. Flint deserved whatever her father had in store for him. He had brutally assaulted and raped a 14-year-old girl. Laura Madley had been a good friend of Hermione's, despite the difference in their ages. And Laura and her little sister Amanda had been very close. Hermione felt responsible for what had happened to Laura's little sister, and she felt beyond horrible that she had forgotten about Amanda, and that the girl had been raped. There really were no words to describe it. What she was feeling, that is.

Surprisingly, she wasn't crying. She supposed it was because she'd cried herself out the night before, in D—Malfoy's arms. A wry chuckle escaped her mouth. What a strange thing to say. Or think, even. She had felt so very…safe, in his arms. It scared her, that she would depend on another person like that, even if it had been for only an hour or so. She'd always considered herself completely independent. She'd never let her guard down like that for Harry even. 

And that scared her. Harry was supposed to be her best friend. And there was a large possibility that they would become lovers in the near future. 

So why had she opened up to him, of all people? He had been her enemy for so many years, and now… 

Oh, she knew she was repeating herself. She'd gone through these same arguments countless times, never reaching any conclusions, only drawing out more questions and becoming more and more frustrated. It was exceedingly strange, his behavior. She supposed it must have something to do with her recent elevation in status. It really seemed to be the only thing that made sense. 

After all, whoever married her would have unimaginable power. She was the daughter of Voldemort himself, as well as Albus Dumbledore. She was relatively certain she was related to Snape in some way as well. She couldn't remember precisely. She had been researching her family tree for a few quick minutes. They had been all she could spare, and Hermione suddenly realized how little time she had been spending in the library lately.

The place had been her haven for so long, and then when Voldemort had come, she'd been unable to go there unless it was for a book for one of the Slytherins. Now, of course, she could do anything she liked.

Except leave, of course. But that was a given. 

With that thought in mind, Hermione dressed quickly in one of her new robes, a plain (but at the same time feminine) black one, and pulled her hair into a haphazard bun at back of her head. She smiled at her reflection. She didn't look particularly beautiful, but she'd learned long ago to accept it. 

The witch grinned to herself before dropping into her Dark Lady mask and exiting the room.

***

Draco walked aimlessly around the halls, trying to calm his anger. So what she'd seen Potter the night before? She'd cried in his arms! That should have been worth a lot, but all he could think about was the fact that she would rather be with Potter than with him. Of course, he supposed he really shouldn't be surprised, what with the way he had treated her—abominably—for five years. 

It had changed, of course, in sixth year, but she didn't know that. She probably never would. After all, he'd been eavesdropping. 

But he didn't feel like thinking about that now. He needed to focus on something else. But what? It seemed like most of his life had begun to revolve around Hermione, especially since Voldemort had taken over Hogwarts. He'd spent most of his time making sure that she wouldn't be attacked. Flint's habits were widely known. At least now, thanks to Hermione, he wouldn't be able to do it again.

But it was too late for the Madley girl. She was a Hufflepuff, a house that was repeatedly mocked for having not-so-many brains, but Hermione hadn't cared. And that was the thing. Hermione _cared_ about her. He could tell that it had eaten her up, what Flint had done to the girl. After all, hadn't she cried for nearly an hour in his arms? _His_ arms? He knew that her feelings for him hadn't changed. Yes, she'd smiled at him, but he had a feeling that overall, how she treated him, it wouldn't change.

It … hurt, really. But maybe he deserved it. He'd been an ass for so long, who would really expect him to change?

***

Parvati Patil walked down the corridor, anxious to get to the library and find the book Snape wanted. He was one of the nicer Death Eaters at least. He never tried to hurt her, he was just gruff and slightly rude at times. But overall, he was probably the best one of them out there. Her face darkened as she thought of Hermione. Oh, the bitch really knew how to do it didn't she? The traitor. 

She probably helped her father get in. If it weren't for that… She clamped her mouth shut in an unsuccessful attempt to hold back a sob. Ron wouldn't be dead.

"Oh, is the little Gryffindor _scared?" A voice came out from the shadows. Parvati stopped in her tracks, unable to move. She started shaking as a man came out of the shadows. It was Lucius Malfoy. The bastard. Oh, she might have been scared, but her inner cursing didn't have any reason to die down or stop. _

She drew herself up and said solidly, "No," then forced her knees to unlock and walk towards the library again.

"Stop." The command in itself shouldn't have forced her, but she knew that he was using some form of magic, because it was not of her own will that she obeyed him. She had no idea what was happening. It wasn't the Imperious Curse, she knew that much. She remembered it from fourth year. That had been rather pleasant at least. This…

Lucius Malfoy strode forward and pushed her roughly against the wall, and started unbuttoning her robe. "You're going to like this, aren't you?" he whispered maliciously, his lips against her ear. 

"Why…" she whispered, finally regaining control of her voice. "Why me? Why not your _wife_?" she spat.

"My _wife_," he said, shoving her against the wall once more, harder this time—Parvati was certain she would break something, maybe her head—"Is no fun at all. She doesn't even respond anymore. You however," he grinned, leering at her, his hand making its way down her side, "You will most likely be very fun." His hand was on her thigh now, and Parvati closed her eyes, wishing she were a thousand miles away.

"_Stupefy!_" a voice shouted. The curse hit Lucius just seconds before he got to the elastic of her underwear, and Parvati had never been more grateful. He slumped against her, and Parvati pushed him away, falling against the wall, the tears she had been holding in streaking down her cheeks. 

She felt Lucius being dragged away, and another curse being muttered, before the person ran up to her and started re-buttoning her robe. "Oh, gods, Parvati, are you all right?"

Parvati's eyes shot open. "Hermione?" she asked, shocked. Her mind worked to catch up with what was happening, and suddenly she glared at the daughter of Voldemort. "You bitch."

Hermione jerked back as though she had been slapped. "Wha—What?"

"I can't believe you," Parvati whispered, her eyes narrowing until they were mere slits. She stood up, stepping back, putting distance between herself and her former roommate. "You put Lucius up to this, didn't you? Just so you could save me and look like a hero? To get back on my good side? You are a bitch. You are the daughter of a bitch and a snake."

Hermione finally gathered herself and glared at Parvati, standing up as well. "Don't you dare call my mother a bitch!"

"She had to be, to sleep with that bastard!"

"You don't know what you're talking about," Hermione whispered menacingly. "My mother was a good person. She was a Gryffindor!"

Parvati shook her head. "So were you. And you fooled us all as well."

"I never fooled you! I fought against Voldemort for _six years alongside Harry, and now you think all that doesn't matter!"_

"You don't deserve to call him Harry. You don't deserve to call him anything. It was you who helped Voldemort to take Hogwarts, it was you! It's your fault that Ron died!" Parvati yelled, more tears making their way over her already damp cheeks.

"Ah, so the real reason finally comes out," Hermione said quietly. In a more forceful voice, she continued, "And I did not help Voldemort come take over Hogwarts! He didn't even know who I was until just a few days ago! And it is not my fault that Ron died! It never was!"

"Yes it is, you bitch! I can't believe I ever called you my friend. I can't believe I ever called you my roommate. I can't believe I ever called you my _housemate_!"

"Parvati, please—"

"No," she stated forcefully. "I've heard enough. You deserve to rot in hell, alongside your mother and father, and I hope I never have to see your traitorous ass ever again."

And with that, Parvati took her leave of her former roommate, heading back to Snape's dungeon rooms, without the books. Not that she noticed, of course. She was too busy fuming about traitorous friends who were worse than enemies. 

Hermione didn't notice any of this however. 

_It's all my fault. All my fault._

_It's my fault Amanda was raped._

_It's my fault Parvati hates me. _

_It's my fault Ron was killed._

_It's my fault Harry is going to die, all because of a stupid prophesy._

_It's my fault. It's all my fault._

And with that, she fainted.

***************

**A/N:** That was so hard to write. But so much fun as well! I'm running on full-speed here! I'm sorry I wrote another almost-rape! But I needed something to get Hermione and Parvati to bitch at each other. You'll see exactly what happened to Hermione in the next chapter…

**cathy**:** Why won't she tell Harry? Well, she's not sure yet. Have you ever felt that you just shouldn't do something, for whatever reason? Well, that's what she feels like.**

**Crystalline Lily:** Um, wow! You really like this story, don't you? Well, truthfully this is reminding me of when I wrote another story, "Mirror Image." It was a "Gilmore Girls" fanfic, and there was another question as to who the girl would end up with. And it started out looking like it would be one guy, 'cause that was how it really looked, and I just seemed to be concentrating on that romance, and the other guy's brooding. But it turned out to be the other guy. So don't worry too much. And if you like D/He, try "Last Will and Testament." (by me, of course ^^)

**kiki-0303****: I love it when you ask questions! It's much better than thoughtless "I love your story" reviews (even though I DO like those as well, lol). As for what you brought up… Well, Harry didn't explode because I think he's rather a calm person—plus he doesn't want to lose Hermione. He's already lost Ron, losing Hermione would really hurt him. So I guess I see him as a little blind that way as well. Voldemort is letting Harry stay alive for reasons I will not disclose yet. And yes, Draco knew, but he's not going to tell because, if you remember, Draco noted in the last chapter that Voldemort was almost as all-seeing a Dumbledore. Voldemort no doubt already knows about the meeting in the tower. I'm glad you like the Voldemort/Rhianna tragedy-romance! There will be more of them, don't worry. :)**

**Lovely Little Muse:** I'm glad you think I'm doing a good job writing it. I'm very sensitive about my writing, although I like to think I can take a flame or two. I don't think I've gotten any for this fic yet though…

**Avri****: I know! I feel so sorry for Draco as well. Don't despair yet, dear.**

**Aragorn**** Rox: Yup, I updated. ^^**

**Rya****: Worship me? Wow, no one's ever said that to me before… And thanks for recommending this story to Atomic Babe. ^^**

**Lozzie****: Glad you liked Harry's reaction. I was a little unsure of it.**

**Eevya****: I will definitely write more. Thanks!**

**Gryffindor Chik:** Thanks, and I will.

**Granutec12:** Actually, it was the Philosopher's Stone in England. They changed it to the Sorcerer's Stone in the U.S. I don't know why. But I figured that since this takes place in England, the characters would probably call it the Philosopher's Stone. And I will definitely continue this "AWESOME FANFIC" as you so nicely put it. ^^

**I-LOVE-DRACO:** Glad you're sticking with it. There probably won't be too much of the Ha/He kissing-stuff. I can't write it. Seriously. You can't write about something you've never done.

**sparklingmoon585:** Well, I didn't include more of the interaction between Harry and Hermione because… I don't know. I really have no excuse. Maybe I should go back and write some of their thoughts in. Or maybe I'll just have them interact a little more or something…No wait, scratch that for reasons I cannot reveal to you yet. So maybe I'll go back and write in some more. We'll see.

**Kristin Malfoy:** Glad you love it! I will definitely continue writing. This is one of my most favorite stories to write, which is lucky for all you peoples because I'm writing four of them! This one gets updated the most.

**FredNGeorgeRule****: Thanks! I'm glad you like the Voldemort/Rhianna thing, and I'm very, very sorry I haven't been updating! I hope this chapter somewhat makes up for it. The next one (chapter, that is) should come sooner.**

**FlowingRiver****: Really? I'm touched! Very glad you like it. :)**

**Forever Draco:** I'm glad you like it! Sorry this update took so long, this was a hard chapter to write.

**tommygurl**:** I did receive your e-mail, and I'm sorry I didn't respond to it on here! I usually just check the review alerts I receive from ff.net, and I completely forgot to put your e-mail in the folder that I put those in. So thank you for that review! And as for who Hermione ends up with… Well, I can't exactly reveal who that is, so I won't say anything more on that!**

**dracos** gurl:** *blushes* Thank you so much!**

**ysanna**:** Glad you like the story so much—I'll definitely pass your praise on to Lavinee.**

**dan's** gurl:** I'm so glad that you Voldemort's character! He's a particularly challenging one to write, but fun at the same time. He tried to be a good father, and I think that he truly cares for Hermione, but at the same time he's still the Dark Lord. But I don't think that's really as bad as it could be, for which I am very grateful.**

**peter****Wilson****: *grin* Thanks. **

**Leara**** Malfoy: You really like it that much? Thanks! **

**Dawn:** You are on the updates! 

**reversing**** mirror: I'm glad you think it's brilliant. Thanks.**

**hopeless**** romantic: Ah, you caught the eye thing. Very good. Hermione WILL get to know her mother, don't worry. It might not be in the way you expect, but rest assured, she will. As for the one night of passion thing… Well, it has to be more than that. It has to be 'body, heart, mind, and soul.' I don't think they're quite that committed yet. So even if they did—and I'm not saying they will—Voldemort wouldn't die like that. *snaps fingers* But you're obviously a very good reader. You'll find out more about the eye thing later. And I added you to the updates list, sorry I didn't e-mail these answers to you.**

**Percy:** Thanks!

**Alexandra Trent:** Glad you like it all. Sorry this update took so long.

**Atomic Babe:** Glad you liked it, and I did thank Rya!

**estella_jayne****: I'm glad that you learned how to use the review thing—that can be very important at times!**

Wow. It took me half an hour to answer all of those! Ah, well. It's fun. I'm always in a good mood after I read my reviews. :) Have a good day, peoples!


	8. And I Can Hear You Breathe

**A/N: In this chapter: Voldemort is fatherly, Draco tells all, and Lucius cowers and cringes! **

Some of you have been wanting some fluff, and you got lucky, because that's what you're getting in this chapter. 

I am so happy! I went to sleep last night with 92 reviews, and when I woke up, I had 128! Thank you all so much!

**If anyone wants to me to e-mail them when the new chapters come up, TELL ME, AND LEAVE YOUR E-MAIL ADDRESS (or, if you're a member, sign in). **

**Rating:** R, although this chapter is probably only around PG-13

**Pairings:** Hermione/Harry, Hermione/Draco

**Disclaimer:** *sits drumming her fingers on the desk* Ugh! Why do I even try? *sighs, exasperated, and rolls her eyes* I don't own it! So there! *sits down in a humph and glares at anyone who dares to look her way*

**********

_Chapter 8_

Draco sighed as he reached the entrance to the Great Hall. He really wasn't in the mood to go in there and make small talk with the Death Eaters. He would have liked to talk to Hermione, but he wasn't sure whether she would be there or not, and didn't feel like taking the chance. 

Instead, the 17-year-old wizard turned on his heel and headed towards the library. He hadn't been there in a few days, and besides—there was a chance, however small, that Hermione might be there. It would be a good idea to talk to her and perhaps decide where their relationship stood. He knew that he hadn't yet apologized for everything he'd done to her up until their sixth year, and he knew that their relationship wouldn't go anywhere if that didn't happen.

The passage he was walking down was the main way to the library. There were connecting corridors that led to the Great Hall—where Draco had come from—the dungeons, Gryffindor tower, and a few others places that he couldn't recall at the moment. This was the fastest way to the library from each of those places, and Draco was confident that there would be few people about—after all, Death Eaters were anything but literary creatures. Even his father stayed away from books. 

Draco increased his pace, eager to get to the library. As he rounded a sharp turn, he was extremely surprised to find his father sprawled on the floor, breathing shallowly. He was even more surprised—not to mention enraged—to find Hermione collapsed near the wall about five feet from his father's body. 

The young man nearly ran to her side, feeling for her pulse, and, finding it faint and shallow, he levitated her body. He walked quickly towards the infirmary, using all the shortcuts he knew. Voldemort had allowed Madam Pomfrey the run of the place, so long as she didn't try to escape. So far, the witch hadn't tried, and for this, Draco was extremely grateful. 

"Madam Pomfrey!" Draco yelled as he neared. The witch ran out of the infirmary, her eyes widening as she saw Hermione. 

"Quickly," she said, "bring her in and lay her down."

Draco followed her orders, and explained the situation to the witch. "I found her in the passageway to the library; my father was near her, sprawled across the floor." The two shared a look—they both felt they knew what had happened. 

"Mr. Malfoy," the witch said as she worked to gather supplies, "would you mind getting your father? If he did attack the lady, it's possible that she cursed him. I've heard that her family was very powerful in wandless magic."

Draco nodded, and after taking one last look at Hermione's unconscious body, he left the infirmary.

***

Voldemort slouched in his chair, tapping the cherry oak of the desk with one of his short fingernails. Strange. He didn't know what to do. He really should be planning how to take over the Wizarding world, but… Well, ever since he'd found his daughter, it hadn't seemed important anymore. All he really wanted was to live peacefully, and perhaps get to know his daughter before she grew up and went out on her own. 

He'd thought she'd been dead for so long that he truly didn't have anything to live for. It had been why he hadn't been afraid to drink the unicorn's blood six years earlier. Of course, it _had been Quirrell who'd drunk the blood, but, well, it was practically the same thing. _

But the point was, he didn't want to do it. He didn't want to take over the world. He didn't want to destroy all the Muggleborns and the Halfbloods. Then again, he never really had, seeing as how he was a Halfblood himself. He didn't want to kill anymore innocents, he didn't want to have to keep his minions in line by giving them a Muggle woman or a Muggleborn witch every few weeks. 

He just plain didn't want _any of it. Maybe he could slowly disband the Death Eaters. Collect and destroy all of his Dark memorabilia. _

The older wizard sat straight up in his chair. Yes! That was it. That was how he'd do it. He would collect all of the Dark things he'd passed off to his followers, saying he needed it for a plan of his, and then slowly destroy it. 

But getting rid of his followers would be the hardest part. He couldn't kill them… Well, maybe he could. But he really didn't want to. Voldemort laughed. Like anyone would believe that. Well, perhaps he could send them on missions that were bound to fail, and they would slowly be either captured or killed by the Ministry. That would be a good way to do it. Yes…

The Death Eaters _were _a rather stupid lot. The Dark Lord shook his head disgustedly. What had he been thinking when he inducted those members into his group? Lucius Malfoy had seemed promising. He had been one of the top students in his graduating class, topped only by Lily Evans, later Lily Potter. 

Voldemort sighed. He must have been mad when he went after the Potters. And to have destroyed such a keen mind as well… Yes, temporary insanity must have been the guilty party. Young Potter showed promise, and a good understanding of the Dark Arts. He'd used to think it a shame that the boy insisted on staying on the side of the Light, but now he was grateful that the boy had been strong where he had not. 

He sincerely regretted everything he had done, and wished that Rhianna had been able to save him sooner. 

A loud knock on the hard door interrupted his thoughts. 

"What is it?" he barked, yanking the door open.

A trembling Pettigrew inched through the door. "M-my lord," the rat stammered, "There has b-been an a-accident."

Voldemort's moves were swift, and Pettigrew was pinned against the door before he could so much as blink. "Who?" the Dark Lord demanded softly, feeling he already knew the answer. 

"Th-the lady, Lady Hermione, my lord."

The elder wizard dropped the Animagus and strode towards the infirmary, not bothering to glance back. Thoughts were racing through his mind as he increased speed until he was flat-out running. What had happened? Was she okay? Who hurt his little girl? 

He burst into the infirmary, but was quickly blocked by Madam Pomfrey, who glared at him, obviously unaffected by his snarl. "Voldemort," the witch said, "You must calm down. I will not let you see your daughter if you do not calm down."

"What happened?" he whispered, his voice deathly low.

"Mr. Malfoy, the younger one, found her unconscious in the corridor that leads to the library. The elder Mr. Malfoy," she gestured toward one of the beds, "was found about five feet from her." The witch's eyes communicated the rest. 

Voldemort found himself infused with a fury equivalent only to the time Rhianna had been attacked by Lucius. He turned toward Lucius' bed, raising his wand, only to find it yanked out of his hand by Madam Pomfrey.

"No magic," she commanded, bringing his wand with her as she headed towards the back of the room. He nearly snarled at her, knowing that her possession of the wand wouldn't do any good. She probably knew it as well, and only wanted to feel as though she had the power to take it away. 

Voldemort walked slowly towards the curtains that were drawn around a bed he was certain to be Hermione's. His movements were almost cat-like, strange in the fact that he was a Slytherin. He pulled back the soft linen, surprise flickering through his gaze when he saw someone already seated next to her. It was Draco Malfoy. The boy was holding his daughter's hand, staring at her face as though waiting for her to wake up. 

He set down her hand and rested his face in his own, sighing deeply. "Hermione…" he whispered, his voice tinged with sadness. "I will kill my father if he hurt you, I swear it." 

And then, as silent tears trickled down the boy's face, Voldemort turned and left, leaving the boy to himself.

***

Draco reached out and grasped Hermione's hand again. Staring at her peaceful face, he gathered the courage to speak. "Hermione… I know that we've never been the best of … ah … well, anything, really. Unless you count enemies. But you always seemed to be different from Potter and Weasley, and I no doubt would have tried to befriend you if it hadn't been for my prejudice against Muggleborns. My father brainwashed me practically. I've heard that term used before. 

"You… you always loved whatever we did in class. It annoyed me, and I was jealous. I was jealous of the fact that you always understood what was happening, and that you liked what we were doing in class, no matter what. You were a Muggleborn. You weren't supposed to understand what was going on, much less be able to do it. I think that was one of the things that changed how I looked at you, and instead of just seeing the Muggleborn, I saw Hermione. It took awhile, I'll admit. I think last year, sixth year, was when it really changed.

"It's funny, really. We were researching the Polyjuice Potion. Snape asked for someone to explain how it worked, and, as usual, you raised your hand. I don't remember what you said, but he said, 'Ms. Granger, the only way you would have known that would be if you had made it yourself. That information is not available in any books.' After class, he held you back, and demanded to know when you had done it, as, if I can remember correctly, the use of the Potion was strictly monitored by the Ministry. I was staying back to talk to him about something. He didn't know I was there.

"You said second year. I swear I have never seen Snape so shell-shocked. That potion is one of the most difficult to brew, and the only books available on it were in the Restricted section. He never reported you, and I think that was a testament to your abilities. He recognized the fact that you had talent, and that you would get in a lot of trouble—to put it mildly—if the Ministry found out. My overall view of you changed that day. If you remember, I never teased you again after that. I never called you names. I just picked on Potter and Weasley. 

"So what I'm trying to say here is that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for teasing you for six years. I'm sorry for everything that I ever did to you. I'm sorry for when that curse in fourth year that hit you. I'm sorry for everything I ever did to hurt you. I'm just … sorry." Draco sighed, leaning his forehead against the bed and closing his eyes, breathing in deeply and wishing she were awake.

***

Voldemort watched the younger Malfoy through an opening in the curtains from Lucius' bedside. Most of the boy's words had drifted through the nearly empty infirmary to reach his ears. He was amazed at the feeling he heard in those words. Perhaps it would not be that hard to find someone his daughter would agree to marry…

"My lord," Lucius rasped. 

The Dark Lord's head whipped around to stare at Lucius, and the younger man cowered in response. "Would you care to explain what happened?" he asked silkily.

Lucius scowled, regaining his courage. "I was attempting to have some fun with that Patil girl. Someone struck me from behind, I don't know what happened. The next thing I know, I'm here."

Voldemort's stare could have burned a hole through Lucius' skull it was so intense. There really was no reason for him to lie. Well, there was, if it turned out he had attacked Hermione, but the man wouldn't be that stupid, would he? No, probably not. Besides, the story was pure Lucius. No doubt Hermione had found him trying to force himself on Patil and she had quickly defended her former housemate. Besides, if he were lying, it would be easily proven wrong when Hermione woke up.

"I see…" Voldemort said. 

"Er, my lord, I understand that this is most likely not the time, but I was wondering…" Lucius trailed off, looking uncertain.

Voldemort raised a brow questioningly.

"I was curious as to why you have not yet given the Dark Mark to my son, Draco."

Voldemort was quiet. He had originally not given the Mark to the boy because he'd seen something in him, a chance to do something with his life. Draco Malfoy was a true Slytherin, ambitious, and with the power to back it, the likes of which he was sure had not been seen since Salazar himself. Voldemort was hesitant to give the young man a Mark which would gain him nothing, and only help him to lose everything. He was extremely grateful that he had kept at least a part of his brain.

Now, however… He knew how to answer Lucius.

"My dear servant," Voldemort said quietly, his mouth curving as he saw Lucius flinch at being called a servant, "I do believe that young Draco already knows whom he serves." His eyes flickered over to where the young man was gazing at Hermione with longing and … love. Yes, Draco did indeed know…

***************

**A/N:** So, enough fluff? I loved writing Draco's little confession/apology! It was so sweet. Oh! I just realized that I didn't explain what happened to Hermione. Well, you'll find out the next chapter. 

**cathy**:** I wrote this chapter the day after I posted the last one! The problem is posting it… Well, not really. I just like Lavinee to read it before I post it. And I agree with you about Lucius, and I really don't mind the language when it is referring to him.**

**Crystalline Lily:** Oops! I'd forgotten that you'd already read LWAD. Sorry about that. Erm… As for when I'll update it… I don't know! I've started the fourth chapter, I just need to finish it. It should be soon. Hopefully by next week, which, although I know it's a long time, is better than never. Sorry.

**HarryPotterWanter****: I'm glad you don't think that Hermione's out of character. That's always been one of my main fears. I know you're disappointed that Harry wasn't mad at Hermione, and actually, I'm having small doubts about that myself. I might change it, actually. It would make a lot more sense, wouldn't it? Hmm. Especially with this latest development… And I love the fact that you like this! Thanks for the long review, I really like those. ^^**

**hopeless**** romantic: Thank you for being understanding about the updating thing. This is actually sooner than you expected, isn't it? It's sooner than I expected as well! But when you go to bed with 92 reviews and wake up with 128, it's hard not to write! Glad my explanation made sense.**

**MistressDeDraco****: Ooh! A long review; thanks! :) Yeah, Lavinee came up with the original plot. Actually, I've changed a lot of things. I think I might post the original plot at the end, just so everyone can see how many changes this story went through. 'Cause it did—I changed it plenty of times. Ah, I see you don't just accept everything I tell you or imply—you think that the Son of the Light might be Draco… Hmm. Very astute. Yes, all of this is rather hard on Hermione, as you can see from the end of the last chapter. And you've noted the fact that I never said anywhere that Harry and Hermione are in love—that's why the extra line of the prophesy is important. And yes, she will have to come to some decisions regarding her father. **

**Avri****: I feel sorry for her too…**

**Atomic Babe:** *grin* Thanks.

**Reversing mirror:** Better and better? Thanks. :)

**estella_jayne****: Well, I suppose I do now, thanks to all you wonderful peoples!**

**Leara**** Malfoy: The best story ever? *blushes* Thank you very much!**

**Ysanna****: Thanks!**

**Gryffindor Chik:** Wow. "Story of the century"? Really? Wow. 

**Lozzie****: Thanks!**

**Eevya****: *grins and bows* Thank you very much.**

**Rya****: Yeah, I finally updated. And this was faster, wasn't it?**

**Aragorn**** Rox: The best chapter, eh? What about this one?**

**+ Evenstar +:** You just started it? Well, I'm glad you like it! I love new people reading this story. :)

**dan's** gurl:** And excellent update, eh? Is this one good as well? Glad you love the story.**

**angie**:** Thanks!**

**esmerellda**:** Her husband? Ah, that I cannot tell you. You'll find out for sure at the beginning of the sequel, although you might be pretty sure at the end of this one. It's not that difficult to get a login, you just need an e-mail address. The best story on the site? *blushes* Thanks! And as you can see, there's fluff in this chapter! There should be more in either the next one or the one after that. There IS some romance, don't worry. Although the bulk of it won't be until the sequel, there will be some in here. And I'll try to work in more Lucius/Hermione verbal sparring. After his attacking Parvati, I think that she'll especially want to take him out. **

**liana****: I'm glad I've taken the time to share it. :)**

**isa**:** I have problems reading too much fan fiction as well. My family hates it. Glad you liked the chapter.**

**sad_panda****: You've asked a very good question. I'll have to explain that later. **

**~Frodo~: **I will NEVER abandon this story, don't worry. I just sometimes have trouble writing. Obviously not for this chapter, lol.

**Rise:** Thanks, and I will continue, don't worry. ^^

**Myra****: I'll do my best.**

**peter****Wilson****: As always!**

**Percy:** Extraordinary? Thanks. Hope this wasn't too long a wait.

**Delta Rocks:** Not exactly. She (Lavinee Rocher) posted the plot, wanting someone else to write it since she didn't have time to. So I volunteered. Of course, the plot has been considerably altered since she turned it over to me. I'm considering posting the original plot at the end of this story so that people can see how many changes this story went through. 

**kiki-0303****: I'm sorry it took so long. Snape is still alive because of his expertise in Potions, as well as the fact that Voldemort was planning on waiting to surprise him and then torture him or whatever, but now that he's found his daughter… Well, let's just say he's had a change of heart.**

**Japanese Goth:** Glad you like Draco and Voldemort. I like them too. :)

Aie! It takes forever to write these replies now! But it's fun, because it's how I thank you for reviewing. 

Much love, 

hasapi


	9. In the Hands of the Fates

**A/N:** Ahh. Chapter Nine… I do hope that you enjoy it. I know it didn't come as quickly as the last one, but that's because I only got about half the amount of reviews for Chapter Eight that I received for Chapter Seven. See, the amount of reviews I receive indicates how long you will have to wait for a chapter. If I receive a lot of reviews (namely, more than 35 or so), then I am so excited that I end up writing whenever I can. Usually, as soon as I find out how many reviews I have. I know that people hate it when authors ask for reviews, but I'm not asking. I'm just explaining how my mind works, and what you have to do to get what you want. 

Oh, and if you He/Dr people want a short fic to read, I posted one on the 14th—_Forgive Me. It's got some, ah, sex in it. I needed practice. I also needed to write it, 'cause I got an idea, and once I've got an idea…well…I have to write it. So I did._

And I'm sorry that this chapter isn't as long as they have been. When I wrote it I messed up, and completely forgot to put something in here. So I put it in here, and then I moved the other thing to chapter ten, and… Well, it just got rather complicated. Actually, I've already started chapter eleven. 

Oh, yeah… Spring Break is _here!! *dances around* Meaning I have more time to write and less homework to worry about!_

**Rating:** R

**Pairings:** Hermione/Harry, Hermione/Draco

**Disclaimer: **I own it! (I am living in a dream-world. Please do not wake me up.)

**********

_Chapter 9_

"Hermione is in a coma," Madam Pomfrey explained gravely to Voldemort and Draco. "I believe that she suffered a nervous breakdown from all the stress that has been piled on her. It no doubt started when you," she looked pointedly at Voldemort, "took over Hogwarts and she was forced to slave away with the other students. It intensified when she discovered her identity, not only as your daughter but also as the great-great-great-great-great-great-granddaughter of Albus Dumbledore. 

"I have no doubt that a great strain was put on her shoulders when young Amanda Madley was raped by Marcus Flint… She was very distraught over the entire incident, I'm afraid." The witch paused before continuing. "Something had to have happened to cause her to break. Hermione is a strong witch, but no one is strong enough to stop something like this from happening. And something happened to make her go into a coma. It was, to coin a Muggle phrase, 'the straw that broke the camel's back.'

"Hermione's breakdown has caused her to go into a coma, as I told you. I do not believe that she will suffer any permanent damage, although that cannot be completely determined until she wakes up. And that will only be _if she wakes up." _

"What," Voldemort said silkily, "do you mean by that?"

The witch sniffed delicately. "Hermione's condition is unstable at best. I cannot do anything to ensure that she wakes from her coma, as I could as easily hurt or harm her as I could help her. It is really now up to the Fates to decide."

Half an hour later, Draco decided that he didn't like the Fates all that much. They were bloody annoying, in his opinion. Voldemort was pacing the hallway outside the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey having banished him there after he wouldn't stop pestering her. Draco had been the only one there to see the man's outrage, Lucius having been released an hour earlier after being pronounced to be in perfect health. Well, perfect physical health that is. Many most likely doubted his mental health, but Madam Pomfrey had no experience dealing with that, so no one mentioned it.

Draco had a feeling that Voldemort was suspecting his father. Hell, _he_ was suspecting his father! The man had been found just five feet from Hermione… What else but Lucius Malfoy trying to force himself on her would have caused her to have a breakdown? It had to have been big, that was all he knew. It was all anyone knew. They wouldn't know anything else until she woke up.

…_If she woke up._

***

"You have to be kidding!" Lavender whispered to her friend.

"Nope," Parvati smirked, "I'm completely serious."

Harry rolled his eyes and leaned back against the couch, wondering what had gotten the two in a tizzy. Honestly. The two would be like this for anything. They were pretty much, ah, _not there in the head. Well, perhaps that was a bit harsh. It wasn't as though they were stupid—they wouldn't have gotten this far in school if they had been—but they were just a tiny bit air-headed. _

That was one of the reasons he missed Hermione so much. With all of his heart, he wished that the past few months had never happened. That Ron was still alive, that they didn't know Hermione was Voldemort's daughter, that the seventh and fifth year Gryffindors were with the rest of the school, that none of this had ever happened…

Harry wasn't usually helpless. He was usually in the thick of things. First year, he had been the one to get the Philosopher's Stone away from Quirrell; second year, he had been the one to defeat Tom Riddle; third year, he (okay, with Hermione's help that time) had helped Sirius Black and Buckbeak escape; fourth year, he had been the one to duel with Voldemort; fifth year, he had been the one to capture Nott. 

He had done everything, been in the middle of things, for so long that he was feeling very lost now that he wasn't. 

"Harry!"

The lost wizard looked up into the face of a bright young witch who was looking…almost, well, _evil_ with that gleam in her eyes. "Yes?" he questioned.

"You'll never believe what just happened…" 

"What?" he asked, exasperated.

"Okay, it's kind of complicated." She sat down next to him. "See, I was walking to the library to get a book for Professor Snape when, suddenly, Lucius Malfoy comes out of the shadows and attacks me. Then Granger comes out and Stupefies him before coming over to me, and—"

"Wait a minute," Harry interrupted her, "doesn't that make her a _good _person? I mean, she save you from Lucius—"

"No, Harry, that's the brilliant part." If Harry had thought that her eyes were gleaming before, they were _shining now. "See, Granger is smart, that's the problem. She didn't just come across me accidentally; she set the whole thing up! She got Lucius to attack me, and then saved me. She was trying to get back on my good side, see?"_

Harry stared at her, the blood pounding in his ears. Her lips were still moving, but he couldn't hear what she was saying. He couldn't hear anything except the thoughts in his head.

When Hermione had told him that she was Voldemort's daughter, he'd been shocked. Oh, he'd heard the rumors of course—he'd been on kitchen duty that night—but he hadn't been able to believe that they were true. His initial instinct had been to pull away and never speak to her again. But he'd already lost Ron. He really hadn't wanted to lose Hermione. 

And besides, what had really changed? She hadn't _done_ anything. She was still the same Hermione. She had helped him for _six years fighting against the Dark Lord. Whose daughter she was didn't matter. Her actions had proved that she was a true Gryffindor, and not the descendant of Salazar Slytherin. Well, she __was still his descendant of course, but her actions proved that she was not a _Slytherin_. She was a Gryffindor._

But now…if what Parvati had said was true… Then she _was_ different. She had taken an action that had completely gotten rid of anything he or anyone else felt for her. She truly was…

"…an evil, manipulative, calculating bitch," Parvati finished.

***

Voldemort walked towards the dungeons with purpose in his step… Not that he _had a purpose, but the Dark Lord probably should not be seen dazed and walking in circles. It might give people ideas. He shook his head. It was so very hard to get rid of the Death Eaters. All they wanted was power…and he was still in a place to give it to them. He would probably always be able to give it to them. But the fact was that _now_ he didn't want to._

He had been seriously thinking about abandoning the whole thing when Hermione had been a baby, but something had stopped him. He had a feeling it was the Fates. There was something he had to do. He had no idea what it was, he still didn't. He really wondered if he ever would…

Voldemort shook his head. Now was not the time for such musings. He should concentrate on Hermione. She was in a _coma and there was nothing he could do. It was tearing him up. There had never __not been anything he could do. Well… Then again, Rhianna had introduced him to a lot of things he couldn't do. Or at least that he hadn't been able to do until he'd met her. _

Laugh.

Cry.

Love…

It was the last one that had brought him the most happiness and grief. He had loved her so much, and he had lost her. Now he wondered whether young Draco would experience the same thing, or if he, perhaps, would be the lucky one.

That was, of course, if Hermione agreed to marry him. He knew very well of the two's past history. Lucius had been very eloquent in his praise of his son, how he terrorized Potter and his two friends, the Weasley and the Muggleborn. 

A slow smile appeared on his face. Except… She wasn't a Muggleborn, was she? No, she was a Pureblood, her blood almost purer than the Malfoys… After all, not everyone was a descendant of Salazar Slytherin _and Merlin. All the Malfoys had behind them were generations of Pureblooded witches and wizards, and although that wasn't necessarily a bad thing… Well, they didn't have any truly important ones._

Voldemort rubbed his chin thoughtfully. _Would _she agree to marry Draco? After all, even with all their past history, he knew that Draco loved his daughter. And Hermione didn't seem the sort to bear a grudge for that long. Then again, she most likely took after her mother…meaning that one couldn't hope to predict her actions before she took them. 

He shook his head exasperatedly. It had driven him so insane, especially before when she had still been trying to escape. It was almost impossible to predict what she would do. She would seem to be going in a schedule, and then she would do something that threw it off. She had been a very smart witch.

Voldemort was so involved in his thoughts that he almost didn't notice the 17-year-old wizard in his path until it was too late. Then again, the younger man didn't notice the Dark Lord in his path either, so involved with his anger as he was. "Well, well, well…" Voldemort said, placing a smirk on his face, staring at Harry Potter. 

He was extremely shocked when Potter looked up at him and _growled_. 

"My, my, my, do _we have a temper today."_

"Oh, like you don't know?" Potter scowled at him.

Voldemort said nothing, just stared at him, an eyebrow raised, a look of disinterest on his face.

"Maybe it's the fact that your _daughter," he nearly spat the word out, "told Lucius Malfoy to attack Parvati Patil so that __she could save her and look like a hero."_

Voldemort stared at the boy, covering his complete shock with disdain. "Oh?"

"Yes, you bastard."

Voldemort sighed, shaking his head. He brought up his wand and petrified the boy before levitating him into Hermione's chambers. She would no doubt want to talk with him when she woke up. After all, it was clear that the boy was mistaken. Although his story did clear Lucius Malfoy, the part about Hermione enlisting his help was a fabrication. He knew, without a doubt, that Hermione would never ask Lucius for anything. She hated him that much.

He wondered very much what _had happened. He supposed that the Patil girl had spread the stories, but what had Hermione done to deserve that much hatred? _

Of course, they would have to wait until she woke up to be sure of anything.

…_If she woke up._

***************

**A/N:** Well, I don't have anything else to say, so I'll just get to the thanking you individually thing…

**kiki-0303****: Yes, I agree. I'm still working on it. I think I have an idea as to how to get rid of Lucius… But it won't come into play until the fifteenth chapter—at the earliest.**

**avri****: *grin* Yup, that _was _a fast update, wasn't it? Sorry this one wasn't as fast. If you want a really good explanation of _why_, then you should read the A/N at the top, if you haven't already.**

**Isa****:** Don't worry, my lips are sealed and my fingers are broken. :)

**delta**** rocks:** I've got you addicted? That's awesome.

**rise**** hoshiba:** *grin* Yes, that was a very fast update. Glad you liked the chapter.

**Percy:** Well I'm very glad of that!

**Leara**** Malfoy: Hope you did well on your exam. I hate those things…**

**Reversing mirror:** Well thank you!

**Alexandra Trent:** Yes, Draco/Hermione _is_ fun to read…and to write. Glad you're enjoying it. ^^

**estella_jayne****: Ah. Ginny is not dead. She escaped with the others. She probably won't come into this story at all, although she might appear in the sequel. Pansy…to be honest I sorta forgot about her. But she's in the next chapter, scheming as usual.**

**Crystalline Lily:** *grins* Glad you enjoyed the fluff. I _certainly _enjoyed writing it. I'm afraid there wasn't that much fluff in here, but there it wasn't anywhere near as dark as the others have been. There will be some Voldemort/Rhianna fluff in the next one I think.

**cathy**:** Er, Snape? He hasn't been in here, has he? Ooops. Darn it. I think he'll make some appearances in future chapters. His whole situation will be made clearer soon, don't worry. Oh, and thanks for reading my other stuff!**

**Midnight** Rain:** Glad you think it's unique. ^^ And as for the whole Son of the Light thing…Well, I can't reveal anything, but you're not the only one who has that idea… :)**

**Japanese Goth:** Glad you liked the whole 'caring Draco' thing. And yes, Voldemort is being a very smart person there… He's only gonna get smarter. At least, I like to think so.

**MistressDeDraco****: Oh, I hate it when ff.net doesn't work! It's so annoying… I love my Voldemort as well. When I started it, I had no idea it was going to turn out this way. I've changed the plot so many times it's not even funny anymore. Yes, the whole 'disbanding the Death Eaters' thing is going to be rather difficult, but I have no doubt that Voldemort is going to succeed with it. Of course, I'll have to think of the ideas before he does… Oh well. Yes, I believe that Draco's engagement with Pansy is pretty much over. No one—except for her, of course—even wants it anymore. I'm going to be getting rid of Lucius soon… Well, relatively soon. I'm going to start setting the framework to get rid of him very soon. And you gave me an idea! Thanks. I'm not going to tell you what it was until I actually do it. Wouldn't want you all to figure out what I'm doing! Thanks for all your wonderful comments. :)**

**surfngurl**:** So very glad that you took the time to review and that you love my characters and my portrayal of them. That's one of the most important things to a writer.**

**Ysanna****: Yes, but I wouldn't expect all of them to be that fast. Hopefully you won't have to wait too long, however.**

**Bitchy Little Pixy:** Yes, it is _very _safe to say that this would never happen in the books. For one thing, Rowling would be making Harry a much larger part in the story. And I'm working on the Draco thing. I really agree that he's too nice. When I have time I'm going to shift his character a bit in the earlier chapters. And with Lucius, do you mean that you hate _him_, or you hate my portrayal of him?

**tommygurl**:** *grins* So glad you're loving the whole thing. I like Voldemort as well. :) **

**Dark Dragon:** You're on the updates list, and I will _definitely _attempt to keep up what I'm doing.

**Mimi:** I will send you updates; glad you like it so much.

**Gryffindor Chik:** Really? Why thank you! 

**Forever Faith:** *bows* Thank you very much!


	10. It's Not Easy to Be Me

**Author's Note:** Hello again! Have fun with chapter ten! …And yes, it _is supposed to be in _italics_. Almost all of this was actually Chapter 9, but because of a little mix-up, I had to move it here. _

**If anyone wants to me to e-mail them when the new chapters come up, TELL ME, AND LEAVE YOUR E-MAIL ADDRESS (or, if you're a member, sign in). **

**Rating:** R

**Pairings:** Hermione/Harry, Hermione/Draco

**Disclaimer: **"According to unknown sources, hasapi of fanfiction.net fame has renounced her claim to any and all characters of or pertaining to the _Harry Potter books. In other news…"****_

**********

_Chapter 10_

_"…So what I'm trying to say here is that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for teasing you for six years. I'm sorry for everything that I ever did to you. I'm sorry for when that curse in fourth year that hit you. I'm sorry for everything I ever did to hurt you. I'm just … sorry."_

_Hermione listened to Draco's small speech with her eyes narrowed. What on earth was going on? Why couldn't she move? Why couldn't she answer him? _

_All those questions and more flew through her mind until she slipped even deeper into unconsciousness._

***

_Hermione walked towards the brilliantly scarlet steam engine, marveling at it silently. She'd had to leave her parents at the barrier—they couldn't go through it, as they were Muggles. It was daunting to be by herself at only eleven, but she squared her shoulders and did it anyway. It wouldn't be that hard after all. Her parents had always said she grew up too fast, and here she was, proving them right once again._

_Not that it was a _bad_ thing to grow up so fast, she reasoned to herself. She'd been so excited when she'd received her Hogwarts letter, and her parents had been as well, although she'd noticed that they didn't seem anywhere near as surprised as she had expected them to be. She shrugged. They were probably just surprised that something else hadn't happened already._

_She walked to the train, pulling her luggage behind her. She walked into the first compartment she reached, grateful that it was empty, and attempted to heft her trunk into it. After a few attempts, getting nowhere, she was about to call for a conductor—if there were one, she wondered thoughtfully—when a boy her age walked by. He glanced at her, then at her trunk._

_"Need some help?" he asked, raising a blond brow. _

_She smiled at him and nodded. Between the two of them, they were able to get it into the compartment. "Thanks," she said, wiping sweat off her brow._

_He shrugged, clearly not liking the situation. "What've you got in that thing?" he asked._

_"Oh," she shrugged, "just my school supplies."_

_"My trunk isn't that heavy."_

_"Well…" she trailed off uncertainly. "I have a few more books in there besides the ones on the list."_

_"Ah."_

_"Yes. I mean, it's not every day you discover you're a witch. I bought so—"_

_"Wait," he interrupted her. His face had darkened so much it was looking quite unfriendly. "You're a Muggleborn?"_

_"Yes…" she said, wondering what the problem was. _

_He sneered at her and left the room, not bothering to look back._

***

_Hermione walked slowly towards the library, stepping softly. It was a cold night, but she tried not to shiver. It would only attract attention…attention that she wasn't ready to see. Especially since it was after hours and she was a prefect. Prefects were supposed to set examples for the other students. She scowled softly. It wasn't her fault that Harry needed her to find a book about Priori Incantem._

_There hadn't been any free time to look it up before they'd left for summer vacation after fourth year. They'd just gotten back to Hogwarts. Hermione smiled. It was wonderful, being back. She truly loved it here. _

_Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when she reached the library without running into either Mrs. Norris or Filch. It really wouldn't do to get a detention just a few days into the school year. She pushed the door open softly, her ears alert for softly padding claws or rasping breath, or, for that matter, any sounds at all. It all wouldn't do to run into another student. _

_The young witch sighed, heading quietly towards the Restricted section. She was almost positive the book she needed would be there. She'd checked everywhere else during school hours and hadn't found it. And this year there was no Gilderoy Lockhart to let her into the section. She grinned. He had been so full of himself. All you'd needed to do was compliment him, and he'd let you get away with anything. _

_Oh, she'd had a crush on him for a while… Who wouldn't? Not only was he handsome, but he had supposedly done so many wonderful things for so many people. But the fact was that he hadn't. He hadn't done _any _of it. He'd just said he had, and then Obliviated the ones who _had_ so that they wouldn't rat on him. Served the git right, Obliviating himself. She smirked. Yes, most definitely…_

_A soft rustle of fabric on her right caught her attention. She was sitting on the floor of the Restricted section, skimming the titles. Her ears perked up and she listened greedily, waiting for another sign that someone else was in there. Not that she could take points from them, of course—after all, she wasn't supposed to be there either. There was a softly whispered swear before the air shimmered, and _Draco Malfoy _appeared. _

_Hermione was only just able to keep her mouth from dropping open. What on the Gods' green Earth was Malfoy doing? He had to be insane, sneaking into the Restricted section so close to the beginning of the term. Why, did he have any idea what would happen if he were caught?_

_And not only that, but where had Malfoy gotten himself an Invisibility Cloak?_

_A strangled laugh that Hermione had been unable to quench completely alerted Malfoy that he was not alone. He spun around, staring almost straight at her…or where she would have been had she been standing. _

_"Who's there?" he whispered. He looked quite panicked. Hermione was only just able to stop herself from snorting. Honestly._

_She didn't answer, choosing instead to stand up slowly, the Invisibility Cloak clutched tightly around her. She padded out of the section, making sure that Malfoy didn't follow her. _

_What had he been doing? _

It was a question that had haunted her for a very long time after that…

***

_"Hey, 'Mione!"__ Ron shouted from his broom. He was circling the Quidditch pitch, grinning from ear to ear. _

_"Hey, Ron!" she shouted back, running up to the edge of the pitch. The tryouts had just ended. Oliver had graduated two years earlier, Katie Bell had at the end of Hermione's fourth year, and Alicia Spinnet had transferred to Beauxbatons to finish her seventh year… Leaving the Gryffindor Quidditch team short three players—one Keeper and two Chasers. Ron had tried out for Chaser, and judging by the way he was acting…_

_"'Mione, I did it!"_

_…he had made it. Hermione grinned. He'd wanted so badly to make it, she knew. To do something without Harry for once. It was so important to him that he make something of himself without Harry's help. Of course, if they won the Quidditch games it would be a combined, team effort. But that probably didn't matter, at least not to Ron._

_"Congratulations!" she grinned at him. _

***

_"Miss Granger," Professor Snape said silkily, "the only way you would have known that would be if you had made it yourself. That information is not available in any books."_

_Hermione was ready to hit herself over the head with a cauldron. Honestly. One would think that the head prefect and prime candidate for Head Girl next year would be able to keep her facts straight. She could feel her face heat up and saw Snape's pleasure increase. _Stupid, stupid, stupid! _she__ yelled at herself angrily. The rest of the class was finished in silence, with another 12 points taken from Gryffindor, making a grand total of 15. Not as bad as they'd done at times, but definitely not one of their better days._

_Just as she was starting to pack up, she heard Snape say, "Miss Granger, I believe I need to speak with you." She shook her head forcefully at Harry and Ron when she saw that they were about to say something. No use them getting detentions as well, as she was almost certain was going to happen. _

_"Yes, sir?" she asked, coming to stand by his desk after everyone else had filed out._

_"Miss Granger, when did you make the Polyjuice Potion?" When he saw her hesitate he scowled and continued. "There is no use lying to me. I _know_ you made it."_

_Hermione sighed. "Second year. W—I made it in second year."_

_Snape's__ eyes widened so far Hermione thought he was going to have an apoplexy or something. "Wh—Where did you get the ingredients?" he asked._

_Hermione stared at him, shocked. Had he just stuttered? Professor Snape, Death Eater spy extraordinaire, had _stuttered_? Goodness. What was the world coming to? "Your private stores, sir," she whispered, looking down._

_"Look at me when you're talking!" he snapped. Her head came up defiantly. His expression softened. "I won't report this, but I would suggest that you not do it again. Stealing from a professor is a very serious offence. Detention tonight at nine."_

_Hermione stared at him, shocked. Again. He'd let her off with only _a_ detention? She'd expected ten, at least. And perhaps even that he would report her to the Headmaster… But he hadn't done anything. Just one detention. _

_"Well?" he said irritably. "Won't you be going now?"_

_"Oh, yes, sorry, sir," she said, scurrying to pick up her things. She headed out of the dungeons, still in shock._

***

Hermione stirred softly on the bed. She kept her eyes shut, not wanting to wake up. It had been so peaceful… And she'd been reliving so many memories. The memories themselves weren't all that great… At least not most of them. Well, they were actually okay. They were already slipping away, though. She could only remember the feelings that were associated with them now. 

She hated that. It was one of the most annoying things about dreams. Especially when you felt that they were important. Maybe not predicting the future—since she found that ridiculous—but the past was just as important, and a lot of the feelings she was experiencing were ones that she remembered. 

She sighed, knowing she would have to open her eyes sometime. Cracking them slightly, she squinted into the bright sunlight. There was a shadow… She opened her eyes wider, trying to look at the man there.

It was Lucius Malfoy.

Memories started to come back. She had been walking to the library. She'd run across Parvati. They'd had a fight. She couldn't remember anything after that.

But the important part of it was that Lucius had been attempting to rape Parvati. 

Hermione let her eyes show all the emotions that had been boiling in her. Hate. Anger. Disgust. Utter and complete loathing. 

"You bastard," she whispered menacingly.

***************

**A/N:** *grins* That was sooooooo much fun to write. I have no idea where it came from. I started this chapter with about four points/ideas, but I only wrote three of them… Well, sorta. But the point is that this chapter really wrote itself… And it was originally Chapter Nine.

Okay… So normally I answer everyone individually, but since so many reviews said pretty much the same thing, I'll group them that way. But if you asked specific questions or addressed specific points, then I answer you directly… unless someone else asked the same question, of course. Argh, this is confusing! Just find your name.

**PotterzGirl****: So much praise, I'm flattered! As for story length… Well, actually I'm not certain. I mean, originally I was thinking 20 chapters, then 10, now I think it'll be around 25 or so, but it might be as few as fifteen. I mean, I know where it'll end, but I don't know how much will happen between then and now. There _will be a sequel, however, to tie up any and all loose ends. _**

**Bitchy Little Pixy:** Okay, I understand the Lucius thing now. Glad you like Madam Pomfrey. ^^ I call it the Philosopher's Stone because that's what it's called in England, and since they (the characters) are in England, then that's what they'd call it. I don't know _why_ it's called that, I just know that's what it's called. Although I think it has something to do with alchemists. Maybe they were called philosophers then?

**Crystalline Lily:** Yes, Parvati certainly read too much into the situation. And if you think about it, Ron and Harry have generally just been fair-weather friends to Hermione. Haven't they always taken the other's side? Think _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban—Harry took Ron's side with the whole Scabbers incident, and then again with the _Firebolt_. I mean, I like to think that they _aren't_ fair-weather friends, or at least that they get better as the books go on, but even if they do, there will probably always be that question or that unconscious push to not believe her._

**harrypotter4ever:** Yes, he would be. I don't like to think of him as _dumb precisely, just… Well, read the reply to Crystalline Lily if you want a full explanation._

**Darkina****, estella_jayne: Well thank you very much, I will definitely continue it!**

**hopeless**** romantic, Forever Faith: I'll definitely try to keep it up. :)**

**MistressDeDraco****: I love reading your reviews! I was planning on having Hermione wake up in Chapter Nine—and that was actually the way I wrote it originally—but then I realized that I had completely forgotten about Parvati! And then that elongated the chapter longer than I needed it, so I expanded on some other things I've been putting off. But she woke up here, so that's good, right? As you can see, it's actually Lucius that she sees first… But I think it's funnier that way. It'll be even funnier later… *grins* And Harry isn't _dumb_ precisely, he just kinda acts first, thinks later—if he thinks at all. Right now Harry and Hermione have a dependent relationship, at least on Hermione's part—so she _is _going to attempt to talk to him. I haven't decided whether or not he'll listen. And yeah, the whole Voldemort thing is confusing because people actually _like him in here. *grins* I love it when I do things people don't expect. As for the whole Lucius thing… Well, I'm still working on it. We'll have a little fun next chapter—Hermione v. Lucius, Round 2. (Do I even have to tell you who wins?)_**

**kiki-0303****: *grins* I see you're very upset at Harry right now… Which is exactly what I was going for. So glad I succeeded. **

**Eevya****: There are just a few things I would like to say in resonse: 1.) Thank you very much! 2.) So glad I succeeded in that remark. ^^ 3.) Ginny isn't at Hogwarts—she escaped with the others (refer to Chapter One to see who didn't make it out, and is therefore still at Hogwarts); and to be truthful, I forgot about Pansy for a while. But she'll be in the next chapter, I believe. Although it might be the twelfth. I can't remember, but she'll be coming up soon.**

**Ysanna****: You're addicted, eh? Cool. :)**

**Gryffindor Chik, esmerellda: **Harry is currently in Gryffindor tower. He is not yet dead because 1) Voldemort doesn't want to kill him and 2) because he doesn't see him as that much of a threat at the moment. He is, however, the only Gryffindor not allowed out of the tower, meaning that he's the only one not being a slave.

**Atomic Babe:** Good luck on the homework!

**Aragorn**** Rox, Lozzie: *bows* Thank you on behalf of both myself and Lavinnee.**

**Rise: **Thanks. And of course I updated!

**liana****, delta rocks, Isa, Reversing mirror, Percy, peter Wilson, mary, ~Frodo: Thanks!**

**avri**, Evenstar:** I'm writing, I'm writing!**

**Leara**** Malfoy: *blushes* Thanks. Good luck on your own writing, if you ever do try.**

**~Frodo~:** It's okay. Thanks for the compliment. ^^

**sparklingmoon585:** Glad you like it so much. Yeah, that chapter really did make you hate Parvati, didn't it? I was actually considering giving her a romance, but after she did that… Well, I'm not in the mood to do her any favors. We'll see.

**Alexandra Trent:** I'll update soon, Parvati will get what's coming to her (eventually), and as you can see, Hermione has awoken!

**RuByMoOn****: Thanks—you're on my updates list.**

**rosie**:** Thanks. Here's the chapter.**

**HarryPotterWanter****: Oooh! Long review. :) As you can see, I included your suggestion (or whatever you want to call it) that she hear what he said. It actually makes more sense now, because she's recalling a lot of those times that he was mean to her and everything. _And _she remember the incident when his feelings toward her changed, although she didn't know it then. She collapsed and went into a coma because it was just all too much. Being Voldemort's daughter, having all these troubles with Draco and Harry, having everyone hate her, feeling that it was her fault Amanda Madley was raped by Flint… She snapped. What can I say? She'll probably snap again in the future—but that time she won't collapse. She'll snap the way you imagine someone snapping, by lashing out in anger. Very good problem-solving skills with the whole Parvati thing. ^^ I hope you've enjoyed this chapter. More nice Voldemort, mean Parvati, stupid/dense Harry, adorable Draco, bitchy Pansy, and subdued Narcissa to come.**

**Japanese Goth:** "Free love is never true love"? What's that mean? Anyways, glad you're liking the whole thing. Lucius will get his comeuppance, don't worry. Both humorously and… Well, the other way.

**blurry****: Thanks! And I hope those withdrawals aren't that difficult… **

**michelline**:** Hmm. I never thought of the whole hair color thing… Interesting. I'm afraid that I can't tell you who the Son of the Light is, but I will say that I like Draco a lot, especially in here. :)******


	11. There Is Truth in What I Say

**Author's Note:** Hello again! Have fun with chapter eleven! My grades are going very, very, very well! I'm probably going to get A's in all of my classes, provided I do well on the finals (which are tomorrow). 

**Rating:** R

**Pairings:** Hermione/Harry, Hermione/Draco

**Disclaimer: **If I ever tell you I own this, please hit me over the head with a frying pan and ask me to gather my sanity.

**********

_Chapter 11_

"You bloody bastard," Hermione hissed at him. Lucius flinched.

"Now, now, my lady," Lucius purred, "please calm down."

The Dark Lady smirked. Gone was the quiet, studious Hermione, and in her place was the smirking temptress also known as the Dark Lady, Lady Voldemort. It was his fault, really, that the transformation had taken place. Without him, who knew what would have become of her? And she had very little doubt that his part was yet finished. 

"Lucius," she said silkily, "I believe that you attacked a friend of mine."

Lucius smirked. "Your father isn't here to back you, _girl," he said, stressing the word. _

"I don't need my father, Lucius, surely you know that?" She smirked, raising a hand and pointing it at him. He was starting to look panicked… Especially since his feet were no longer touching the floor. "Surely you don't need Crabbe and Goyle with you _everywhere_?"

"Er, my lady," Lucius said, "I wasn't saying anything disrespectful, I was just—"

"I don't much care _what_ you were saying, Lucius. You need to be taught a little lesson in manners." She tilted her head appraisingly. "Don't you agree?"

***

Voldemort walked to the infirmary slowly, hoping against hope that Hermione would be awake. It really … _hurt, watching her lie there one the bed, motionless and unresponsive. In a coma, apparently. At least according to Madam Pomfrey, and he didn't have any reason to doubt her. In their school days she had always been serious… Rather like his daughter was rumored to be, he supposed. _

How he missed Rhianna…

He shook his head. He'd missed Rhianna every single day of his life after he'd lost her. He doubted an hour went by that he didn't think of her. 

But… perhaps not. 

The first fifteen years after his defeat at Potter's hands had been spent looking for revenge, and it hadn't been until he'd looked in his daughter's eyes that he had finally awoken. 

She had Rhianna's eyes. 

Chocolate brown… he'd often teased her about them. 

Imagine that, he thought wryly, the Dark Lord _teasing someone. _

Voldemort shook his head, walking into the infirmary…

…and stopping dead in his tracks. 

Hermione was sitting up in bed, her feet propped up on a _silk pillow, her hair up, and her pillows fluffed, her window open, blowing a small breeze into the room…_

And Lucius Malfoy was standing next to her, handing her grapes.

Voldemort stared. He blinked. He closed his eyes. He opened his eyes. He blinked again. He looked away. He looked back. He blinked again.

"Oh, hello!" Hermione called to him. At least, he was relatively certain it was Hermione. 

And then he laughed.

***

Pansy grinned at her reflection. It was so simple. Now all she had to do was find someone to help her…

Blaise Zabini. 

"Blaise!" she called.

The girl poked her head into the room. "What is it?" she sighed tiredly.

"I have to talk to you…"

***

Draco walked to the infirmary, a spring in his step. He would have ran, but made sure to keep his excitement in check.

Madam Pomfrey had just contacted him; Hermione was up. She was finally awake. It had been three days. Three days during which he had watched and waited, before the Medi-witch had thrown him out, mumbling about insane teenagers. Or at least that was what he thought she'd said. She had forbade him to come back, at least until Hermione woke up.

He walked into the hospital wing and froze. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, Voldemort on a chair near her. They were talking, it seemed. And his father, Lucius Xavier Malfoy, was fixing up the bed. He would have laughed had it not been completely out of character for him. 

"…I don't want to marry anyone right now," she was saying. 

"Can you at least consider it?" Voldemort asked.

Hermione sighed. "Fine."

Draco walked forward slowly, watching her. She was beautiful. She had just woken up from a three-day coma, and she was beautiful.

He was in love.

He was definitely in love.

And he knew it.

And he accepted it.

"Hello, Hermione," he drawled, looking as though he hadn't a care in the world.

"Why hello, Draco," she smiled at him, looking very happy. "How nice to see you again," she said, holding out her hand.

"And you, my lady," he said, leaning down to kiss it. He would have sworn a look passed between his father and Voldemort, but he could never be sure.

***************

**Sabrina:** *grin* Actually, I _can_ leave it there. 

**Major Malfoy:** Yeah, I think we all love Draco…

**Crystalline Lily:** Yup, definitely mostly flashbacks.

**dracohermioneshipper****: Glad you like it. You won't find out who Hermione's husband is till the sequel, sorry.**

**Hurdlingbaybe06:** Wow! Thanks for all the compliments. :)

**MistressDeDraco****: Thanks for all the insight into possible outcomes and occurrences, as usual. :) This chapter is very, very short, my shortest chapter ever—and I mean ever—because of the fact that… Okay, I don't want to say it here for fear of being tarred and feathered.**

**HarryPotterWanter****: I put the scene about Draco helping Hermione with the trunk for a few reasons. First of all, I don't think that his first question when he met someone was, "Are you a Mudblood?" Although he was very, very prejudiced against them, he couldn't identify them. Also, we don't know how Hermione first met Draco. I think it would be interesting if that first time turned out to be actually kind of nice, especially since she's always been relatively nice to him. **

**ambrosia****: Actually, I think you _were number 200. :) I checked when I got your review. Thanks. _**

**tommygurl**:** *shudders* I have my final exams tomorrow. Gods, but I hate them sometimes… Especially when I know that they'll be the final determinate of my grade! Ah! Better go get studying, eh?**

**Kou Shun'u:** Glad you like it so much. ^^

**tortify**:** Wow! You've read a lot of my stories, eh? I think I remember you. I find it amazing that so many people enjoy what I write…**

**Voldemort's Babe:** Hehe, glad you like the plot. :)

**silverdragon**:** You're on the updates list!**

**Calm Serene:** You'll find out about Hermione's mother in the next two chapters. They focus primarily on that. 

**dracoJAE**:** Hehe, yeah, I'm happy about my reviews. :) I killed Ron because I needed a catalyst for Hermione and Harry's relationship to go farther than it would have had he lived. Sorry!**

**innocent**** rambler: Wow! You really like my stories. ^^ Feel free to make your reviews long and drawn out. I love reading them!**

**Snapes**** FEMALE Twin: Thanks!**

**Intuition:** AWESOME insight! You've nailed everything that I wanted you to. As for the Chamber of Secrets thing, I think that all the questions should be answered in the next chapter, or at least most of them. Yeah, her character changed a little too fast for my taste as well. Therefore why I will be… Um, nothing. Can't tell you that, never mind.

Thanks for all your support!

**MistressDeDraco**** (Fanfiction.net is too addictive for its own good!), **PotterzGirl**, **Snapes****** FEMALE Twin (sorry I couldn't write a chapter every week; I would feel like I was abandoning my other stories), ****Campy Capybara (Ah, yes, sympathy for Voldemort…the ultimate sign that I am going insane. *giggles* Not really, of course. I'm just in a dramatic-kind-of mood today... Although silly would probably explain it better.), ****LiRA (so glad you think so ^^. Those Hermione and Draco being Head Girl and Boy and falling in love stories have been getting on my nerves as well… I ask you: Where is the plot???), ****sparklingmoon585, **catherine** (Homeschooling?? I was homeschooled. ^^ I _did_ go to public school for grades 3 through 6, but it was too stressful, so I got out. Even going to college leaves too much free time to sit around and read fanfiction… It's scary.), ****vicky, ****HarryPotterWanter(I won't abandon it, don't worry… At least not too much. I will finish it… Although there's something I'm planning to do that you might not all like. ), ****Kristal** Blood**, ****Alexandra Trent (my problem is that I try reading too many fanfictions, and then I stay up late, not doing my homework… What's worse is that I've arranged it so that I have classes only two days a week. Luckily, it won't be the same next fall.), **mic**, ****Intuition, ****ringette****-chick (Wow! Thanks :D), ****Kris, ****Dreaming One (My marks are _almost_ safe. They will be tomorrow at least. Phew. *wipes brow* Argh. I honestly don't know how to answer all of your questions and comments. Great work on that, which is why it's so difficult!)**


	12. The Secrets in My Past

**********

Chapter 12

Hermione sighed, setting down the book and rubbing her eyes. She was so tired… Funny, since she'd just spent three days sleeping. Voldemort would be furious if he found out that she wasn't in her room… But she had already made up with Harry (not to mention made out), and she had been bored after he'd left. So she'd snuck away to the library, hoping to get some of her more prevalent questions answered.

Those questions had been brought up because of her dreams. Oh, she still couldn't remember them, but some of those feelings were ones she had only experienced a few times in her life… so it was obvious what they were associated with. There were also questions that had come up after finding out about her past…

It was taking forever to find everything, but she thought she'd finally figured it out. Well, _everything_ out, actually. Everything she'd been wondering about herself, and the fact that she was the daughter of Lord Voldemort and Professor Dumbledore's great, great, great…etc…granddaughter. 

She had been wondering for some time why she wasn't a Parselmouth. After all, wasn't her father one? Then why wasn't she?

During her summers, she had taken a few classes at the local college. One of the classes she had taken was Biology, and she'd learned about genetics. She knew that the whole Parselmouth thing didn't make any sense at all, and it was annoying her to bits. 

But now she believed she'd figured it out. 

It was a newly discovered trait that was _not inherited according to Mendelian genetics—it really had everything to do with magic. _And_ it skipped a generation. At first she had thought that it might have been connected to the Y-chromosome—so it would be a trait for males only—but she had discovered a few females throughout history to have had it, so that couldn't be the case. _

So that was why she wasn't a Parselmouth. She supposed that meant that her children would have it… Hermione shuddered. Wonderful. So now, when her children were angry, they would set snakes upon her.

Not that she was afraid of snakes… Quite the opposite, in fact—she rather liked them, and had actually convinced her parents to let her keep a garden snake that she had found in their backyard when she was nine years old. It was just the fact that, for that one thing, her children would be more powerful—in a way, at least—than she was. That probably wouldn't be a good thing.

Not that it was a given that she would have children, of course… But she rather hoped she would, in the future. Although she knew that she would spend at least the first five years concentrating on her career before having children. But first, of course, she would have to get married.

Hermione shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She needed to find her mother's papers. Voldemort had mentioned that she kept a diary, and she was quite anxious to read it, to find as much information about her mother as she could. He'd said that he was certain it would be somewhere in Hogwarts, because that was where Dumbledore had been, and she was very close to her grandfather. 

***

Hermione smiled in triumph. She'd found it, her mother's diary, in Dumbledore's office in the cabinet that housed the pensieve. There was a note on top of it… 

***************

**A/N:** So sue me. This was an extremely short chapter, I know. It sucks. You'll hate me more later. In fact, I think I have hit an all-time low with this story. ARGH!!!

Oh, and I'm uploading this so soon after uploading the other chapter 'cause these are both so short… The next one's longer, don't worry.

**Disclaimer:** If I ever tell you I own this, please hit me over the head with a frying pan (or an equally heavy object) and ask me to gather my sanity.

**dracohermioneshipper****: Because I said so. *giggles***


	13. The History of My Mother's

**********

Chapter 13

Ah, my daughter. Hermione Rhianna Thomasine Dumbledore-Riddle. I am your mother, Rhianna Marie Dumbledore-Riddle. Strange to see those two names in conjunction, is it not?

If you are reading this, then I suppose it is true. I am dead. 

I loved your father, child, very dearly, and I still do. There really is a good man beneath all the layers. I truly believe that. I know it, even if the rest of the world never sees it.

There are many things I must tell you, things I must relate to you about my past—and therefore yours. But some of these are better shown, not told. I have therefore left these memories in my grandfather's penseive. There are actually many 'greats' in there, but I forget how many. Albus Dumbledore. He is the Headmaster at Hogwarts, at least he is now. I somehow cannot imagine the place without him. Even when he was only the Transfiguration professor, he somehow fit the place, and made it home.

Right now, I'm looking at you, lying there on the bed. So quiet and peaceful. It seems like the only time you've ever been that way; you really are a fussy baby. My mother used to tell me that babies like that were only looking for stimulation—it meant that they were very smart. I somehow believe her. I look into your eyes, and I see intelligence, and a thirst to learn more. Rather like your father, in that way. He was the best student Hogwarts had ever seen.

According to Grandfather Albus, I was the only one who came close.

You might think that different things drove us to learn more, study harder, and be the best. And perhaps there was a slight difference. But most of all, Tom and I were driven for the same reason: a thirst for knowledge. However his thirst led him to the Dark Arts. Mine… Well, I was led to the Dark Arts as well. But I wanted to work against them, to find a way to best them.

And I do believe I have found the answer: love. It worked with your father. He never actually told me that he loved me, but I could tell. He showed it in so many ways. For one, he never attacked Hogwarts. Never. He never went after Grandfather Albus. For two, he has always defended me and kept me safe. 

I told Tom I loved him after we had been sleeping together for a month. I wish I could understand why I ever slept with him in the first place…but it seems that sometimes your mind decides some things for you, without allowing you to understand it. I know why it was that I began to see him in a different light. I did not put this memory I the pensieve, for it is something I do not wish you to see.

Let me begin by saying that the Malfoys are either your friends or your enemies; there is no in-between. And yet they are also the type of friends that people would generally say, "With friends like that, who needs enemies?" It's very true. The Malfoys have had an ongoing feud with the Dumbledores—back to the 1500s at least. Their feud with the Potters is the longest one imaginable (I'm relatively certain that it dates back to Merlin's time!), although the one with the Weasleys only began within the last century.

But I digress.

***

_Rhianna set down the quill, rubbing her eyes. She was so tired… She was trying so hard to fight the disease, but it wasn't working very well. She was only grateful that the Grangers were willing to take her sweet child in after she…died, and even more grateful for letting her stay with them until… that happened. _

_She glanced over at Hermione, smiling softly. How she loved her child, and wished that she would never have to leave her!_

_Rhianna shook her head, her eyes filling with tears as she thought of Tom. Turning back to the paper, she lifted the quill, beginning to write again. _

***

I love you, child, so much… And I hope that you never have to go through what I went through. 

After a few weeks at Tom's estate, Lucius Malfoy and Crabbe and Goyle stopped by to have a chat with Voldemort. I chose that time to try and escape again… However, Lucius saw me. I remembered him from school, although only as a first year (I had graduated after that), and he was always a mean little bastard, no matter he'd only been eleven. He tried to rape me (at Tom's estate, not Hogwarts)… And your father saved me. He truly looked outraged that Lucius had attempted to hurt me. It was then that my view of him began to change. 

After I month, I admitted it. I was in love with him. So I gave myself to him, and I never regretted it. 

I truly hope that you find that kind of love, my child, for that is the best kind to have—everlasting, never-ending love. 

***

Hermione set down the note, tears in her eyes. So her mother was dead. And her mother had really, truly… _loved_ her…father. How strange it felt to say that. And yet, now, she could. She could call him her father and not feel strange about it, now knowing that her mother had loved and trusted him with all of her heart, and he had not betrayed it. He had even loved her back. 

She lifted up the journal, and began to read. 

***

September 7, 1980

Well, today is a day to remember, that is for sure. Today I got married. And not just to anyone… I was married to Tom Marvolo Riddle… Voldemort. I really think of him as two separate people, because I know that I could never love Voldemort as I love Tom. 

I'm also pregnant—with his child. I can't wait… I am so incredibly happy. 

***

April 26, 1981

Yesterday, my daughter, Hermione Rhianna Thomasine Dumbledore-Riddle was born. She is so adorable, sharing both mine and Tom's looks… But she has my eyes, I can tell. That light, light brown that has the slightest tint of red-gold sparkles… Although I believe the red might be from her father. 

She is so cute, I cannot help but wonder how she will fend off the boys when she is older. Ah, well, at least Tom and I will always be around to help her…

***

July 1, 1982

I am in shock. I cannot believe what has just happened. Tom is dead. He's just… He's gone. I honestly didn't think that he would take Trelawney's prediction seriously. He tried to kill Harry Potter… And he died. 

Oh, I am so mad at him! And yet, at the same time… I can barely write, I'm so upset…

***

August 24, 1982

I'm at Hogwarts. My grandfather, Albus, granted me temporary sanctuary there. I've told him everything. He understands how much I loved Tom, and doesn't judge me for loving the enemy. He's taken to little Hermione almost as much as I have, and plays with her often. She obviously enjoys his company, although I've found that she likes Professor McGonagall just as much. Minerva seems slightly unnerved by that fact.

He has offered to let me continue to live at Hogwarts, but I know that I can't… There is too much risk for exposure. 

***

August 29, 1982

I fainted today. I went to Madam Pomfrey… It turns out that I have an incurable disease. It hasn't been identified as of yet, but it is extremely debilitating. I told Albus. He offered to take Hermione when I…died…but I can't do that to him. People will wonder who Hermione is, and she will be under too much scrutiny than could be good. I mentioned that to him, and he mentioned that perhaps placing her with a Muggle family would be best… Then she would be regarded as a Muggleborn—therefore, not a threat. 

We will be visiting Lydia and Marshall Granger tomorrow. Albus knows them, apparently. They're dentists, and have been trying to have a child for some time with no luck.

***

December 25, 1982

Ahh. Christmas Day. It will probably be my last. I am living at the Grangers now; they've kindly taken me in until I die. Somehow it's getting easier to write that. I'm going to die, and I am slowly accepting it. Hermione is growing wonderfully, and the Grangers adore her as much as I do. I think they're looking forward to calling her their own, although they seem uncomfortable with the fact that they're only getting her because I am dying. I think they see it as being rude to be happy. I am trying to convince them otherwise.

They have agreed not to tell Hermione about her past until she graduates from Hogwarts. Albus has convinced me that she will definitely be going. I am grateful for that. Of course, with Tom as her father, and Albus as her grandfather, what else would one expect?

***

March 10, 1982

I'm going to die soon. I can tell. It's taking all of my strength to write this. I still love Tom, no matter what he may have done. I love Hermione, and I will miss her greatly. I hope that she finds love, and that perhaps her story has a happy ending…

***

And then there was a large black mark on the sheet, where the quill had probably been left. Hermione choked back a sob, reading the small, precise writing at the bottom of the page…

_Rhianna Marie Dumbledore passed away at 5:18 PM on March 10, 1982._

***************

**A/N:** That was so sad! It brought tears to my eyes as I wrote it… Anyways, I think I might've gotten all A's! But I won't know for a bit… I know I at least have two. *breathes large sigh of relief*

**Disclaimer:** I don't own it, so please don't try to sue me. Trust me when I say that you won't get anything… I don't _have_ anything.

**dracohermioneshipper****: *grin* Sorry. Though not really. And yeah, I guess I do love cliffhangers… They're fun, and then reviewers want a new chapter even more. :)**

**Crystalline Lily:** Yes, I _finally_ updated. ^^ And yes, Draco admitted he loved her, and Voldemort and Lucius are getting some ideas… Don't worry, won't be too long yet…

**Dreaming One:** Hello! Thanks for responding to my e-mail. :) Glad you weren't two disappointed with those last two chapters. *flinches* I wasn't very into the fic at the time I wrote them. I was much more into it while writing this chapter, though. Yeah, description was _bad. Really embarrassing, actually._

**cherryplum11:** Thanks! I think I might've actually gotten all A's. :D I'm happy.

**Hurdlingbaybe06:** Yup. During my break I kinda started writing again, 'cause I really couldn't stop. So I had a chapter for almost every story ready. Well, not really for this one, but I had chapters 11 to 13 _started, so that was half the battle. _

**HarryPotterWanter****: Glad you're enjoying the whole thing. ^^ And did you get my e-mail?**

**MistressDeDraco****: Wow. Very long review. Okay then… Gods yes, she was OOC. I wrote that a month and a half ago and didn't feel like changing it. (That's because I'm really lazy right now and at that time I was not feeling very good about this story.) Yes, she used wandless magic. Although the coma was caused by stress, the whole thing caused her to slip into an incredibly deep sleep that allowed her to really develop her powers. I don't know whether that will become clear in the story, so I'm telling you now. Yeah, uh, about that scene… That was where I stopped writing it a while back and, once again, I was feeling lazy and not very good about this story. As in, I thought it sucked and you know what? It couldn't get any worse. Luckily, that doesn't happen to me very often. As for not seeing Hermione make up with Harry… Uh, I think you can already guess the answer from my previous answers: laziness and thinking the story sucked. And they kinda had to get back together so that I can wrap this up by the fifteenth chapter. If you got my e-mail you probably know why. (And you did get it, right?) Hope you like the diary, glad I was able to clear SOMETHING up, and I LOVE your critique. **

**Demosa****: Aww! Kitty? I like kitties. :) I think I'll have a picture of mine up on my site (the hasapi3 one) soon… You're on the updates list.**

**blurry****: Thanks! And I'll try to get to your fic soon. I think I actually read the first two chapters a few days ago, actually. It was pretty good. :) And yeah, sometimes you really do need to rewrite a fic…**

**wicca-gurl**:** Glad you like it! **

**Snapes**** FEMALE Twin: Sorry. But now you got to read it. ^^**

**avri**: **Yup, I'm back. Shouldn't be leaving anytime soon. **

**Evenstar****: Here's more. :) **

**tommygurl**:** You're welcome. And I think I did pretty well on the exams. I passed biology with 97% on the course! And on my final I got 195 out of 200. *grins* I'm just really happy. *giggles* Ah yes, what a wonderful dilemma… Be Draco and 'Mione's daughter and be a Parseltongue… Or be married to Draco. Hmm.**

**Jess:** I'm glad I'm back too. ^^

**Tru2me4evr:** I'll try. :D

**I-LOVE-DRACO:** S'okay. I get it. :) 

**harrypotter4ever:** Finals are over now, so I can do that write, write, write thing you're telling me to do. :D

**Priestess Morgane:** Thanks! Glad you like _Just One Night, too. :)_


	14. Inside My Heart is Breaking

**********  
_Chapter 14_

  
  


Draco walked towards the Gryffindor Common Room, his soul heavy with the possibilities of what he could find. Hermione had gone to find Harry the second she'd learned that Voldemort would have to get rid of him. He knew, because he'd found out at the same time, and she had disappeared directly after.

  
  


He sighed in relief when he saw her disappearing inside the portrait that housed her friend. He wouldn't miss any of the conversation. 

  
  


Instead of walking inside the room, he walked past the portrait a little ways and then gave a password to a small gray-haired witch who was practicing her knitting. She smiled at him and opened the portrait, and he went inside, being very quiet. 

  
  


"Harry, you _have_ to escape! My father—"

  
  


"You call him father?" Potter's voice sounded slightly strangled.

  
  


"Well yes, of course; that's what he is after all."

  
  


Potter sighed.

  
  


"Anyway, Harry, you have to escape. I've already worked it out. You'll leave tonight at ten when the Death Eaters switch watches."

  
  


"What about you?"

  
  


"What about me?"

  
  


"You're coming with me; I'm not leaving you here."

  
  


"Oh, Harry… I can't come."

  
  


"Why not?"

  
  


"I just…"

  
  


"Hermione," his voice became pleading, "I love you, and I don't want to be separated from you. Who knows when we'll see each other again?"

  
  


"Oh, Harry…"

  
  


"Please."

  
  


"…Alright. I'll come."

  
  


There were no further words. 

  
  


Not that it mattered. Draco wouldn't have heard them anyway, not with the blood pounding in his ears the way it was. Or the sound of his heart breaking. That didn't help matters either.

  
  


She was going to leave? Leave her father, leave the castle, leave…him? All for Harry Potter. All for Harry blasted Potter. All the idiot had done was tell her he loved her, and she went with him. _That's what friends are_, a nagging voice at the back of his head said. He didn't care. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that she was going to leave, and he had to find a way to keep her with him.

  
  


***

  
  
  


Dear Father,

  
  
  


Hermione set her quill down. This was hard. She didn't know what to write. What were you supposed to write to the father you barely knew? At least she knew her mother… After a fashion, of course. But her father… She didn't really know him at all. She knew what her mother had told her, but that wasn't much. And she really hadn't had time to get to know him very well.

  
  


But she had come to call him father. It hadn't been till after she had read her mother's diary, and seen her memories in the pensieve… And she had realized that he wasn't such a horrid person. Not as bad as she had feared, not quite as good as she had hoped—but no one was perfect of course.

  
  


The last few days had been almost monotonous. Nothing had really happened. Well, except for Pansy Parkinson's body being found in one of the lower dungeons. That had been a very large topic of conversation. No one knew how she had died, and it was as large a mystery as ever.

  
  


Normally she and Harry and Ron would have decided to solve it, but… Well, Ron was dead and Harry… Harry wasn't free. Yet. And if was going to be free, then she needed to finish this letter.

  
  


She sighed, picking the quill up again.

  
  
  


I'm sorry that I wasn't able to say good-bye in person, but I know that you would have tried to stop me, and I couldn't let that happen. Harry and I are leaving; we're going to join the rest of the teachers and students, wherever they are. 

I love you. Always remember that, no matter what happens.

  
  


With love, your daughter,

Hermione Rhianna Thomasine Riddle, Lady Voldemort

  
  
  


Hermione sighed, setting the quill down again. She couldn't write anymore. This was horrible, being on the opposite side of her father in a war not yet finished. But she had to go; there was no other way.

  
  


***

  
  


Hermione walked towards her former common room, cursing inwardly about having no Invisibility Cloak when she needed one. It wouldn't pay to run into anyone, although seeing as how she was Lady Voldemort, no one should question where she was going or why. Except, of course, her father. His sleeping habits were unpredictable, as were the paths he took from room to room. 

  
  


She sighed. There probably wouldn't be any problems. She didn't know why she was so worried. 

  
  


"Hermione."

  
  


Her head jerked around and she stopped dead in her tracks, raising her wand. 

  
  


"It's me," the voice said, and Draco Malfoy materialized in front of her.

  
  


She gasped. "Don't _do_ that," she said, furious.

  
  


He smirked. "Sorry."

  
  


Hermione rolled her eyes.

  
  


"Hermione, I'm not going to let you go with him," Draco said. He sounded desperate.

  
  


"Why not?" Hermione asked curiously, her brow furrowing. 

  
  


Draco shut his mouth. Then, he sighed. "Please, Hermione… Stay. Stay with me. Please."

  
  


The quiet misery she could hear in his voice almost brought Hermione to her knees, but she stayed upright with strength of will. "I can't," she whispered.

  
  


Draco shut his eyes. Opening them slowly, he stepped towards Hermione. She held her ground, although her knees were trembling at the depth of emotion she saw in his eyes. He leaned down, brushing a stray hair from her face and she shivered at the whisper of his hand across her skin. Capturing her lips in a scorching kiss, Draco pressed her against the wall, burying his hands in her hair. Hermione angled her lips against his, opening her mouth to allow him to slip his tongue into it.

  
  


By the time Draco pulled away, he was hard with need and Hermione's bun had been completely dilapidated. They were both breathing hard, and Hermione's lips were swollen, her eyes wide with shock. 

  
  


"Please," Draco whispered, his eyes pleading with her. 

  
  


Hermione's eyes filled with tears. "I _can't_." And with that, she left, leaving Draco collapsing against the wall, his head in his hands.

  
  


~fin~


	15. PostStory Author's Note

**_Post-Story Author's Note_**

This is my obligatory post-story author's note. I always do one. Okay, so this is only the second story I've finished, but I _will always do one. _

You no doubt are all ready to tar and feather me, or at least boycott my stories. Believe me, I did not mean to end _The Secrets of My Heart the way I did. This was the original way it went (it's rather long):_

**

Hermione walked towards her former common room, cursing inwardly about having no Invisibility Cloak when she needed one. It wouldn't pay to run into anyone, although seeing as how she _was Lady Voldemort, no one should question where she was going or why. Except, of course, her father. His sleeping habits were unpredictable, as were the paths he took from room to room. _

She sighed. There probably wouldn't be any problems. She didn't know why she was so worried. 

"Hermione."

Her head jerked around and she stopped dead in her tracks, raising her wand. 

"It's me," the voice said, and Draco Malfoy materialized in front of her.

She gasped. "Don't _do_ that," she said, furious.

He smirked. "Sorry."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Hermione, I'm not going to let you go with him. In fact, unless you do something for _me_, I'm going to go straight to your father."

"I can just Obliviate you."

"Yes," Draco stepped forward, "you can. But I already wrote the whole thing out in a letter. And don't think you can knock me out either, or petrify me. Goyle's coming by my room in," he checked his watch, "five minutes. He'll find the letter, and give it to your father. You don't have time."

Hermione glared at him, hatred welling up in her heart.

"Well?" he asked, raising a brow.

"Fine," she spit out angrily. "What do I have to do?"

"Marry me," he said simply.

"_Marry_ you?"

"Yes. Your father already wants it, and it's rather obvious mine does. We both know that they'll be pressuring us to marry, but your father has given you the option to say no. I want you to say yes."

She glared at him, while at the same time feeling her defense fall. There was nothing she could do, it seemed. It was going to happen, wasn't it? She'd already agreed, after all. "I hate you," she whispered. 

It might have been an illusion, but she thought she saw despair in his eyes.

***

Hermione stood before her father, forcing herself to smile, her hand linked with Draco's. She couldn't believe it had been only two months since Harry had escaped. Her father had been furious, but she knew that he was secretly relieved that she hadn't gone with him. And then she'd said she would marry Draco. He'd been…well, over the moon was probably the best way to describe it.

And now she was going to marry him. Draco Lucius Malfoy. She would be bonded to him in the eyes of the Gods and the law. 

And she didn't even love him.

Oh, she'd been softening towards him, of course… Especially before that little stunt he pulled, forcing her to marry him. And, she admitted, she'd softened towards him again afterwards. It _had been two months after all. Their relationship was pretty much back where it had started—indifference. At least on her part. She really didn't know what his feelings were towards her. He kept them too guarded for her to ever be completely sure._

She knew that she didn't want to do this. But she knew that she had to. It really was too late to back out. Her father thought that she was all for it, and she couldn't suddenly back out of it. Strangely enough, she loved him. Oh, she supposed it wasn't that strange to love your father, but it was when your father was better known—to the rest of the world at least—as Lord Voldemort.

"Hermione?" her father asked. 

Jerking out of her thoughts she said, "Yes?"

"Repeat after me…

"I, Hermione Rhianna Thomasine Riddle, give to you this ring."

"I, Hermione Rhianna Thomasine Riddle, give to you this ring," she repeated quietly, slipping the ring Parvati handed to her onto Draco's left hand. 

"Thus binding myself to you, and you to me, for all eternity."

"Thus binding myself to you, and you to me, for all eternity," she whispered, tears coming to her eyes. 

"Draco, repeat after me…"

As Draco repeated the lines he caught her eye, giving her a small smile. Somehow she was able to smile back, and something small and fragile warmed in her chest. When he slipped the ring onto her finger, she shivered at the intense look in his eyes, almost regretting that she had said, in no uncertain terms, that they would _not_ be sleeping together on their wedding night. He'd agreed, albeit a bit unwillingly. But he had said that it wouldn't be forever. They _would sleep together._

And right now, she was actually looking forward to it, as Draco kept holding her gaze, and her father turned them towards the gathered crowd.

"I present to you… Draco Lucius and Hermione Rhianna Thomasine Malfoy. In the eyes of the gods and goddesses, two have become one, one has become two; Hermione Rhianna Thomasine and Draco Lucius are now married in the eyes of the law and the gods. 

"And so may it always be."

**

And that would have been it. But I couldn't do that. I really couldn't. No doubt you all would have been happy that Draco and Hermione were together—but I wouldn't be. Don't get me wrong, I wrote this story with the intent that they would end up together. But stuff got in the way. Reality clicked. Seriously—would you want to marry someone who conned you into it? I don't care if you come to love them. I don't care if you care about them now. If you care about them, and they do that to you, manipulate you like that, then they don't deserve your love. 

I did not want Draco to be that kind of person. He would not become a man I myself would not marry. Have you ever heard this saying?

_If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, it's yours. If it doesn't, it never was._

That is what Draco is doing. He is letting Hermione go. If she comes back, _then_ they can live happily ever after. If she doesn't…

And I'm not making any promises past the sequel. There will be a sequel, don't worry about that. And I'll work on confusing you even more. You will find out who Hermione's husband is in the sequel, but it won't necessarily be right away, like I had planned at the beginning. Maybe it's Draco, maybe it's Harry. You don't know. I do. *giggles* That's why I like being the author. 

Anyways, if you want to be notified when the sequel comes out be sure to **tell me** and leave an e-mail address or sign in. If you're already receiving e-mails, then don't worry because you _will_ receive notification of the sequel.

- hasapi

P.S. I will post the original plot, created by Lavinnee on my main web-site in about a week. My mother is going to revoke my computer privileges any minute now.


End file.
